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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


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C9HM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICIVIH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiq 


ues 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Nota^/Notas  tachniquaa  at  bibliographiquas 


Tha  Instituta  has  attamptad  to  obtain  tha  bast 
original  copy  avaiiabia  for  filming.  Featuras  of  this 
copy  which  may  ba  bibliographically  uniqua, 
which  may  altar  any  of  tha  imagas  in  tha 
raproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  changa 
tha  usual  mathod  of  filming,  ara  chackad  baiow. 


□    Colourad  covars/ 
Couvartura  da  coulaur 


< — I    Covars  damagad/ 


D 


D 
D 


D 
D 


n 


0 


Couvartura  andommagia 


Covars  rastorad  and/or  laminatad/ 
Couvartura  rastauria  at/ou  pallicul^a 


r~~|    Covar  titia  missing/ 


La  titra  da  couvartura  manqua 


Colourad  maps/ 

Cartas  gtographiquas  an  coulaur 


Colourad  ink  (i.a.  othar  than  blua  or  black)/ 
Encra  da  coulaur  (i.a.  autra  qua  blaua  ou  noira) 


I      I    Colourad  platas  and/or  illustrations/ 


Planchas  at/ou  illustrations  •n  coulaur 

Bound  with  othar  matarial/ 
RaliA  avac  d'autras  documents 

Tight  binding  may  causa  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

Lareiiura  sarrie  paut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou    c'  la 
distorsion  ie  long  de  la  marge  intirieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajouties 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  la  texte. 
mais,  lorsque  ceia  6tait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  M  fiimtes. 


Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  suppl^mantaires: 


Various  paging*. 


L'Institut  a  microfilmi  la  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  itt  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-Atre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  mAthoda  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiquto  ci-dessous. 


n~|   Coloured  pages/ 


Pagea  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagies 

Pages  restored  and/oi 

Pages  restaurAes  at/ou  pelliculAes 


r~y\    Pages  damaged/ 

I — I    Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 


0    Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  dicoiories,  tacheties  ou  piquies 

□    Pages  detached/ 
Pages  ditach^es 

0Showthrough/ 
Transparence 

□    Quality  of  print  varies/ 
Qualiti  indgala  de  I'impression 

□    Includes  supplementary  material/ 
Comprend  du  material  suppiimentaire 

□    Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Mition  disponible 


Q 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  psges  totalement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  6ti  filmies  i  nouveau  de  facon  A 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  filmi  au  taux  de  rMuction  indiquA  ci-dessous. 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

26X 

30X 

y 

12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

Seminary  of  Quebec 
Library 


L'exemplaire  film*  fut  reproduit  grice  i  la 
g6n6rositA  de: 

Siminaire  de  QuAImc 
BibliothAque 


The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Les  images  suivantes  ont  M  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  at 
de  la  nettetA  de  l'exemplaire  film*,  at  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimte  sont  filmis  en  commenpant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  t-orminant  soit  par  la 
dernlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration.  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  salon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  filmis  en  commenpant  par  la 
premiere  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  ^^  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED ").  or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — »•  signifie  "A  SUIVRE '.  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  fttre 
film6s  A  des  taux  de  reduction  diffirents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clich*,  11  est  filmt  A  partir 
de  I'angle  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  nAcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mithode. 


1 

2 

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5 

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16Y 


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THE  LIFE 


Jl* 


OF 


ST.  VIICENT  DE  PAUL. 


^''c=^^Si«.3*^*rN 


BY 


HENRY  BEDFORD,  M.A, 


)feto  ITotft: 

D.   fc  J.   SADLIER  &  CO.,   164  WILLIAM  STREET 

boston: — 128     TXDBRAL-aTHKBT. 

hontrkal: 
oormkr  or  notrk-dakk  and  st.  francis  xatikr  streer. 


T^n  Vt*>< 


1858. 


TO 


THE  VERY  REVEREND  THE  PRESIDENT, 
THE  REVEREND  THE  DIRECTORS, 

AND 

THE   STUDENTS 

OF  THE 

FOREIGN  MISSIONARY  COLLEGE  OP  ALLHALLOWS, 

DUBLIN, 


^b  iwgrapljg 


OF  THB  FOUNDER  OF  THE  CONaBEQATION  OF  THE  FATHERS  OF 

THE  MISSION 

IS  MOST  AFFECTIONATELT  INSORIBXD 


BY  THE  AUTHOR. 


PREFACE. 


They  who  know  any  thing"  of  the  saintly  character  and 
heroic  deeds  of  Vincent  de  Paul  regard  him,  and  with 
truth,  as  the  father  of  the  orphan,  the  friend  of  the  poor 
man,  and  tlie  tender  nurse  of  the  sick ;  hut  only  they 
who  have  studied  his  career  by  the  lig;ht  of  the  times  in 
w^hich  he  lived  are  aware  how  eminently  he  was  dis- 
ting'uislied  as  a  zealous  and  successful  reformer.  To 
him  beloni^s  the  glory  of  raising  the  Church  of  France 
fi'om  the  deep  de^-radation  into  which  it  had  been  her 
unhappy  lot  to  fall ;  a  degradation  which  was  shared 
no  less  by  clergy  than  by  people — into  which,  indeed, 
the  latter  could  not  have  fallen  but  for  the  worldly 
habits  and  shameless  vices  of  their  unworthy  pastors, 
"  The  world  is  sick  enough,"  indignantly  cries  Adrien 
Bourdoise,  who  was  associated  with  St.  Vincent  in  the 
laborious  work  of  reformation ;  "  but  the  clergy  is  not 
less  so :  frivolity,  impurity,  immodesty,  are  every  where 

paramount The  mnjority  qf  qur  priests  stand 

with  their  arms  folded ;  God  is  forced  to  raise  up  lay- 
men —  cutlers  and  haberdashei's  —  to  do  the  work  of 
these  lazy  ecclesiastics,  Seldom  now-a-days  do  we  meet 
with  a  man  who  is  of  good  family  and  at  the  same 
time  an  instructed  servant  of  God.  Whence  is  it  that 
God  makes  use  of  such  laymen  as  M.  Beaumais  the 
draper,  and  M.  Clement  the  cutler,  as  His  instruments 
for  tiie  conversion  of  such  numbers  of  heretics  and  bad 
Cfitholics  ii^  Paris,  but  that  He  finds  not  bachelors,  li- 
centiates, or  doctors,  filled  with  His  Spirit,  whom  He 
can  employ  for  the  purpose  ?    It  is  the  heaviest  reproach, 


▼I  PRFPACR. 

the  bitterest  affront,  lie  cnn  offer  the  clergy  of  an  nffe 
80  devoid  of  Iminility.  L()ii«»;  live  tjjo  draper  und  the 
cutler !  *  Nun  inulti  saplcntes,  non  multi potcntcHy  non 
midti  nohilvH.^  "* 

The  two  remarkable  men  to  wliom  M.  Bourdoise 
here  alludes  seem  to  have  been  raised  up  in  times  of 
I^Teat  irrelig-ion  to  render  extraordinory  services  to  the 
Chureli.  Jean  Clement  had  been  a  Huguenot;  after 
his  conversion,  ho  devoted  himself  to  the  teaching  of 
Christian  doctrine,  and  with  such  success  that  it  is  cal- 
culated in  one  year  he  made  on  an  average  no  less  than 
six  converts  a  diiy.  His  practice  was  to  take  up  a  posi- 
tion near  the  church  in  which  the  Jesuit  father  Veron 
had  just  been  preaching ;  there,  gathering  a  crowd  of 
auditors  about  him,  he  would  explain  in  a  plain  and 
popular  way  the  doctrines  of  the  Church,  and  enforce 
the  arguments  of  the  learned  but  somewhat  severe  con- 
troversialist with  a  sweetness  and  an  unction  which  few 
wej'c  able  to  resist.  His  extraordinary  familiarity  with 
the  Sacred  Scriptures — for  it  is  recorded  of  him  that  he 
knew  nearly  the  whole  of  the  Bible  in  French  by  heart 
— gave  him  great  influence  with  the  Protestants,  and  es- 
pecially with  their  preachers.  He  would  first  let  them 
propose  their  doubts,  and  would  then  answer  them  with 
a  readiness  and  a  completeness  truly  marvellous  in  an 
uneducated  man. 

Beaumais  also  had  been  on  the  point  of  renouncing 
the  faith  in  order  to  marry  a  Protestant,  when,  being 
unable  to  silence  the  rej)roaches  of  his  conscience,  he 
addressed  himself  to  Jean  Clement,  w* ho  not  only  con- 
vinced him  of  the  fatal  character  of  the  errors  lie  was 
on  the  point  of  adopting,  but  induced  hhn  to  join  with 
him  in  teaching  and  defending  the  truth.  He  received 
by  supernatural  infusion  a  right  understanding  of  the 
sense  of  the  Scriptures  ana  of  the  doctiines  of  the  faith, 
and  was  considered  to  surpass  in  disputation  the  most 
amous  doctors  of  the  University  of  Paris.  By  the 
iesire  of  M.  Olier,  who  was  anxious  to  obtain  his  co- 

*  1  Cor.  i.  26. 


PREFACE.  tH 

operation  in  reforming'  his  parish,  he  took  up  his  resi- 
dence ut  St.  G(»nnain's ;  but  lie  visited  in  turn  nil  the 
towns  of*  Franco  wliich  were  most  infect<Hl  with  Cal- 
vinism, and  succeeded  in  brinpfing"  into  the  Church  from 
four  to  five  thousand  heretics. 

So  secularised  had  the  clerg-y  become,  that,  in  a 
Catholic  country,  where  no  excuse  could  bo  ort'ered  for 
^uch  neg'lect  of  j)r()j)riety,  few  wore  any  distinctive  dress ; 
they  went  about  with  moustaches  and  boots,  like  njero 
men  of  the  worhl ;  nay,  it  would  appear,  in  some  in- 
stances, tiiey  dill  not  take  the  trouble  to  put  on  their 
ecclesiastical  attire  even  when  performing-  some  of  the 
sacred  offices  of  their  calling-.  Tims  it  is  related  in  the 
life  of  M.  Bourdoise,  who  on  princijde  always  np|)eared 
puldicly  in  his  cassock,  that  g-oing;  one  day  into  the 
abbey-church  of  St.  Denis,  he  saw  a  man  seated  in  the 
sacristy  with  a  coat  and  short  cloak  on,  and  booted  and 
spurred,  who  w.is  hearing  the  confession  of  a  ]>riest 
vested  in  alb  and  stole.  Ho  immediately  went  in 
search  of  the  prior,  and  said  to  liim,  "  My  father, 
come  here — come  and  see  a  cavalier  confessing  a 
priest !"  The  caustic  rebuke  had  its  effect ;  for  the 
prior  instantly  gave  perem])tory  orders  to  the  sacristan 
to  allow  no  such  scand.'ils  for  the  future. 

What  wonder  if  the  people  were  ignonint  and  im- 
moral, when  their  teachers  and  guides  had  so  little 
sense  of  decency  or  responsibility  !  A  good  prelate 
told  Vincent  one  day  that  he  was  labouring  to  the  best 
of  his  ability,  with  the  assistance  of  his  grand- vicars, 
for  the  improvement  of  his  diocese,  but  witli  only  poor 
success,  on  accoimt  of  the  great  numbers  of  his  clergy 
who  were  both  ignorant  and  vicious,  and  on  whom 
neither  counsel  nor  example  seemed  to  have  any  effect. 
"  I  tremble,"  he  said,  "  when  I  think  that  my  own  dio- 
cese abounds  in  priests  who  are  addicted  to  intem- 
perance or  who  live  incontinently,  but  who  nevertheless 
approacli  the  altar  every  day,  although  they  are  thus 
devoid  of  all  vocation  to  the  ecclesiastical  state." 
Another  bishop,  writing  to  him,  thus  expressed  him- 


VllI 


PREFACE. 


self:  "With  tlie  exception  of  the  canon  theologian  of 
my  church,  I  do  not  know  a  sing-le  priest  among-  all  in 
my  diocese  who  is  competent  to  undertake  any  ecclesi- 
astical charge.  Judge,  then,  how  great  is  our  need  of 
labourers." 

The  immediate  causes  of  this  deplorable  state  of 
things  were,  1st,  the  absence  of  seminaries  for  the  ex- 
clusive education  of  the  clergy ;  and  2dly,  the  vicious 
system  of  patronage  which  then  prevailed,  and  which, 
indeed,  in  spite  of  Vincent's  reforms,  was  perpetuated 
through  the  influence  of  the  secular  power,  till  it  helped 
to  precipitate  France  into  the  vortex  of  the  terrible  re- 
volution of  1789. 

With  few  exceptions — so  few  as  not  to  be  worthy  of 
being-  taken  into  account — there  was  not  a  diocese  in 
France,  notwithstanding  the  express  injunctions  of  the 
Council  of  Trent,  which  had  its  ecclesiastical  semi- 
nary, or  which  provided  candidates  for  holy  orders  with 
a  course  of  study  and  discipline  preparatory  to  their 
entering  on  the  ecclesiastical  state.  There  were,  it  is 
true,  schools  in  which  dogmatics  were  taught;  but 
moral  theology  was  almost  entirely  neglected;  and  of 
individual  training  for  all  the  practical  duties  of  the 
Christian  ministry  there  was  virtually  none.  The 
ftiture  priests  of  the  Church  lived  in  the  world,  each 
following  his  own  bent  and  inclinations,  without  restraint 
of  any  rule  or  superintendence  of  any  kind,  and  with- 
out those  special  and  most  precious  assistances  which  a 
community-life  affords.  There  were  no  regular  exa- 
minations, or  spiritual  retreats,  or  clerical  conferences. 
Young-  men  were  admitted  to  the  priesthood,  and  to 
the  daily  service  of  the  altar,  without  any  probation 
woithy  of  the  name,  and  unfortified  by  those  divine 
aids  whicli  human  weakness  requires  for  the  discharge 
of  so  high  and  holy  an  office.  St.  Francis  de  Sales  him- 
self had  failed  in  procuring  a  seminary  for  his  diocese. 
M.  Bourdoise  once  expressed  his  astonishment  that  he 
had  not  devoted  himself  to  the  formation  of  ecclesi- 
astics.    "  I  allow,"  replied  the  saint,  with  his  charac- 


PREFACE. 


teristic  humour  ana  simplicity, — "indeed  I  am  pro- 
foundly convinced  that  there  is  no  need  of  the  Church 
more  pressinj^- ;  but  after  toiling'  for  more  than  seven- 
teen years  in  endeavouring"  to  form  three  priests  to  aid 
me  in  my  ecclesiastictil  reforms,  I  have  succeeded  only 
in  producino-  one  and  a  half."  However,  towards  the 
end  of  his  life  St.  Francis  had  an  intimate  persuasion 
that  Providence  was  about  to  raise  up  those  who  would 
accomplish  what  he  had  himself  in  vain  laboured  to 
effect. 

But  besides  this  negative  evil, — the  want  of  training" 
and  vocation  for  the  priesthood, — there  was  the  more 
active  and  positive  one  of  the  a^iise  of  patronage,  which 
was  wholly  in  the  hands  of  the  t;own  and  of  the  nobles, 
who  filled  the  hio'her  and  more  lucrative  benefices  with 
their  scions  and  dependents,  and  in  numerous  instances 
with  their  illegitimate  children.  Many  of  the  great 
abbeys,  accordingly,  were  held  by  laymen,  and  even  by 
Protestants ;  often,  too,  they  were  farmed  out  by  the 
possessors,  in  order  to  raise  ready  money  for  their 
lavish  expenditure.  This  corrupt  and  vicious  system  of 
patronage  had  invaded  every  portion  of  the  clerical  body, 
and  acted  most  fatally  in  two  ways ;  for,  in  the  first 
place,  the  majority  of  the  cures,  or  Church-livings,  were 
in  the  gift  of  the  abbeys,  and  were  naturally  supplied 
with  ecclesiastics  who  were  either  the  creatures  of  their 
patrons  or  persons  of  the  same  stamp  as  themselves; 
and  in  the  second  place,  as  their  superiors  were  mere 
courtiers  and  men  of  the  world,  who  simply  appro- 
priated to  themselves  the  revenues  of  their  office,  and 
troubled  themselves  wuth  none  of  its  duties,  so  the  reli- 
gious and  inferior  clergy  followed  the  example  of  those 
who  were  about  them  and  over  them,  and  became 
equally  negligent  and  criminal. 

^he  Life  of  St.  Vincent  de  Pa?  J  furnishes  two  con- 
spicuous instances  of  men  thus  unworthily  promoted  to 
most  responsible  offices  in  the  Church.  The  first  is  that 
of  HeniT  of  Bourbon,  Marquis  of  Verneuil,  a  natural 
son  of  Henry  IV.,  who,  although  not  even  in  holy 


PREFACE. 


orders,  was  Bishop  of  Metz,  and  at  the  same  time  held 
seven  or  eig-ht  rich  benefices ;  being*  Abbe  of  St.  Ger- 
main-des-Pres,  Fecamp,  Vaiixsernai,  Orchamps,  St. 
Taiirin  d'Evreux,  Bonport,  Tiron,  and  Valaise.  As 
Abbe  of  St.  Germain's,  he  was  possessed  of  extensive 
jurisdiction  in  the  diocese  of  Paris,  and  mij^ht  conse- 
quently have  exercised  a  most  powerful  influence  for 
g-ood  in  that  capital ;  but  all  the  use  he  made  of  his 
g-reat  wealtli  and  lii"-h  position  was  to  indulg-e  in  luxu- 
rious and  dissolute  living*  at  court ;  and  we  shall  find 
him,  in  the  ensuing-  history,  forsaking'  the  people  of  his 
diocese  in  their  terrible  distress,  and  squandering*  at 
Paris  those  revenues  wliich  were  derived  from  the  pa- 
trimony of  the  Church  and  of  the  poor,  and  which,  if 
rig'htly  employed,  mig'ht  have  rescued  thousands  from 
a  frig*htful  death,  and  from  evils  more  to  be  dreaded 
than  the  worst  temporal  calamity.  He  ended  by  mar- 
rying^. 

The  second  instance  is  that  of  John  Francis  Paul  de 
Gondi,  the  notorious  Cardinal  de  Retz,  who  bore  so 
prominent  a  part  in  the  troubles  of  the  Fronde.  The 
bishopric  (afterwards  archbishopric)  of  Paris  was  for  a 
whole  century  (1670  to  1670)  a  sort  of  appanag*e  in 
his  family,  which  was  transmitted  from  uncle  to  ne- 
phew  as  thoug*h  it  had  been  an  hereditary  estate.  His 
uncle,  the  first  archbishop,  whose  coadjutor  he  was  at 
the  time  of  the  strug*g*le  between  the  parliament  and 
the  court,  was  a  man  of  irreg'ular  life,  and  allowed  him- 
self to  be  cajoled  into  favouring*  the  Jansenists.  As  to 
the  nephew,  readers  of  history  need  not  to  be  told, 
whatever  view  they  may  take  of  his  political  principles,* 
tliat  lie  was  a  man  whose  ambition  it  was  to  be  the  head 
ot  a  party  in  the  state,  and  as  unscrupulous  in  tho  means 
he  employed  to  g*ain  his  ends  as  he  was  indefatigable 

*  Accordin*^  to  his  own  account,  his  object  was  to  restore 
tho  old  moderate  monarchy,  such  as  existed  in  the  days  of  St. 
Louis,  which  lay  midway  between  positive  democracy  and  that 
absolutism  which  had  been,  in  a  manner,  founded  by  llichelieu, 
and  was  afterwards  consolidated  by  Louis  XIY. 


VO* 


PREFACE. 

in  scheming-  and  agitating*  for  their  attainment     „^^ 

with  great  natural  powers,  eloquent  in  speech,  cOiiggJSBJ*, 
ous  in  action,  and  anle  in  the  conduct  oi'pfFaii*s,  he  was 
utterly  destitute  of  all  vocation  to  the  ecclesiastical 
state,  which  he  entered  merely  out  of  compliance  with 
the  wishes  of  his  fatnily.  There  is  a  painftil  interest  in 
the  account  which  this  strange  unprincipled  man  gives 
in  his  memoirs  of  the  resolution  he  came  to  while  in 
retreat  at  St.  Lazarus  (the  house  of  St.  Vincent's  Con- 

fregation)  before  entering  on  a  profession  which  he 
ated.  "  Being  obliged  to  enter  into  orders,  I  retired 
to  St.  Lazarus,  where  I  gave  the  exterior  all  the  com- 
mon appearances.  My  inward  employment  was  to  con- 
sider seriously  and  maturely  in  what  manner  I  was  to 
behave  myself;  in  which  I  met  with  many  difficulties. 
I  found  the  archbishopric  of  Paris  debased,  as  to  the 
world,  by  my  uncle's  mean  ways,  and  desolate,  as  to 
God,  by  his  negligence  and  his  incapacity.  I  foresaw 
infinite  obstacles  to  the  bringing  it  again  upon  a  rig-ht 
footing";  and  I  was  not  so  blind  but  that  I  saw  that  the 
greatest  and  most  insuperable  came  from  myself.  I 
was  not  ignorant  of  the  necessity  there  is  for  a  bishop 
to  live  regTilarly,  and  I  was  convinced  that  my  uncle's 
disorderly  and  scandalous  life  made  that  necessity  still 
greater  and  more  indispensable  in  me.  But  at  the 
same  time,  I  found  that  it  was  not  in  my  power  to  live 
in  that  manner ;  so  that  all  the  reasons  which  conscience 
or  honour  would  suggest  to  me  against  an  irregular 
life  would  prove  but  insignificant  and  weak.  After  six 
days'  deliberation,  I  chose  to  act  ill,  designedly,  whicli, 
as  to  God,  is  beyond  comparison  the  most  criminal,  but 
which  is  without  doubt  the  wisest  as  to  the  world.  The 
reason  is,  that  when  you  act  in  that  manner,  you  always 
take  some  previous  measures  that  will  cover  part  of  the 
ill  action,  so  that  you  avoid  besides  the  most  dan<^erous 
sort  of  ridicule  that  persons  of  our  profession  can  be  ex- 
posed to,  which  is,  the  mixing  preposterously  sin  with 
devotion.  This  was  the  holy  disposition  I  was  in  when 
I  left  St.  Lazams.     However,  it  was  not  bad  in  everv 


r*?Ki*©? 


xu 


PREFACE. 


respect ;  for  T  had  fully  resolved  to  discharge  exactly  all 
the  outward  duties  of  my  profession,  and  to  take  as 
much  care  of  other  people's  souls  as  I  took  little  of  my 


own. 


»»# 


Accordingly,  he  took  pains  to  conceal  his  licentious- 
ness from  both  clergy  and  people,  and  was  so  decorous 
and  guarded  in  his  outward  conduct,  that  the  most  ac- 
tive and  learned  priests  of  the  diocese  were  anxious  to 
see  him  promoted  to  be  his  uncle's  coadjutor.  To  serve 
his  political  and  private  ends,  as  he  himself  avows,  he 
occasionally  attended,  when  in  orders,  the  spiritual  con- 
ferences instituted  by  St.  Vincent  j  he  studied  theology, 
preached,  disputed  with  heretics,  and  was  liberal  in 
almsgiving,  i  et  all  this  time,  as  his  memoirs  show,  he 
was  an  artful  political  intriguer  and  an  habitual  de- 
bauchee. Not  that  he  affected  "  godliness," — he  was 
too  honest  or  too  cai'eless  for  that ;  nor  that  in  his  heart 
he  ridiculed  devotion, — on  the  contrary,  evil-liver  as  he 
was,  he  seems  to  have  entertained  a  real  admiration  for 
virtue  and  piety.  But  he  had  deliberately  chosen  his 
portion — the  honours  of  the  world,  and  as  much  of  its 
pleasures  as  was  compatible  with  the  attainment  of 
credit  and  power.  To  do  him  justice,  he  appears  to 
have  had  some  scruples  as  to  degrading  the  priestly 
character  in  the  eyes  of  the  multitude,  and  thus  dimi- 
nishing the  influence  of  religion  and  morality.  This, 
indeed,  seems  to  have  been  the  one  redeeming  point 
in  his  character :  deliberately  cboosing  evil,  he  never 
at  least  deceived  himself  into  thinking  that  he  was 
other  than  he  was,  nor  ceased  to  do  homage  to  virtue, 
though  he  had  not  the  will  to  follow  it.  He  boasts 
that  St.  Vincent,  whose  pupil  he  had  been,  said  of  him 
at  the  beginning  of  his  career,  that  tliough  lie  was  tlien 
devoid  of  all  piety,  he  was  not  far  froni  the  kingdom  of 
God.  Such  words  from  the  lips  of  such  a  man  are 
prophetic ;  and  that  towards  the  end  of  his  life  he  sin- 
cerely repented,  and  became  "  a  model  of  gravity,  piety, 

♦  "Memoirs  of  the  Cardinal  de  Retz,  written  by  himseli"' 
(Evans's  translation),  vol.  i.  p.  66-67. 


PREFACE. 


XIU 


aisinterestedness,  and  beneficence,"  may  be  attributedj 
under  the  grace  of  God,  to  the  advantage  he  had  de- 
rived from  the  instructions  and  example  of  his  saintly 
preceptor,  and — may  we  not  with  certainty  add '? — his 
prayers  and  his  merits.* 

Strang-e  that  under  the  rule  of  such  an  archbishop, 
such  a  coadjutor — of  all  men,  as  he  says  of  himself^ 
perhaps  the  least  ecclesiastical — and  such  an  A.bbe  of  St. 
Germain,  was  to  commence  a  most  real,  thorough,  and, 
in  its  measure,  lasting*  reformation  of  the  clergy,  and, 
through  them,  of  the  i)opulation,  not  of  Paris  alone,  but 
of  France ;  and  this  by  means  of  a  poor  sheplierd-lad, 
who  did  his  utmost  to  keep  himself  and  his  virtues  out 
of  the  sio'ht  of  men,  and  especially  of  tliose  who  in  any 
way  could  forward  his  temporal  interests !  Strange  in 
the  eyes  of  the  world ;  but  not  stran^'e,  though  wonder- 
ful, to  those  who  know  tliat  God  loves  to  exalt  the 
humble,  and  to  use  thing-s  that  are  weak  to  the  con- 
fusion of  the  strong'. 

The  circumstances  under  which  Vincent  de  Paul 
made  his  first  act  of  self-dedication  to  God, — an  act 
wliich,  speaking  humanly,  was  the  turning-point  in  his 
life,  and  the  commencement  of  his  apostolic  career, — 
are  as  remarkable  in  themselves  as  they  are  charac- 
teristic of  the  man.  In  the  household  of  Queen  Mar- 
garet of  Valois,  first  consort  of  Henry  IV.,  at  the  time 
that  Vincent  wjis  her  ciiaplain,  lived  a  certain  divine 
who  had  much  zeal  for  religion  and  had  en^ag-ed  suc- 
cessfully in  controversy  with  heretics  and  inhdels.  This 
man,  for  some  end  known  only  to  God,  was  assailed 
with  violent  temptations  against  the  faith,  which  led 
him  to  the  verg-e  of  despair.    No  sooner  did  he  attempt 

*  Neither  ought  we  to  forget  the  Count  and  Countess  de 
Joigny,  the  Cardinal's  pious  parents,  and  Vincent's  early  pa- 
trons and  joint-founders  with  him  of  the  Congregation  of  the 
Priests  of  the  Mission.  The  Count,  on  his  wife's  death,  entered 
the  French  Oratory,  where  he  died.  Cardinal  de  Ketz  eventu- 
ally resigned  two  abbeys  he  held,  and  also  his  archbishopric ; 
and  would  have  laid  aside  the  purple,  but  that  Pope  Clement  X. 
>vou1d  not  consent  to  his  doing  so. 


ftr 


PREFACE. 


to  say  Mass,  recite  his  office,  or  so  much  as  begin  a 
Pater  noster,  tlian  all  the  powers  of  hell  seemed  to  be 
let  loose  against  him.  Vmcent's  advice  to  him  was, 
tliat  whenever  he  was  thus  tempted  he  should  make  a 
simple  act  of  faith,  by  inclining*  his  head,  or  raising'  a 
finger  in  the  direction  of  Rome  or  of  some  neighbouring^ 
chiu'ch.  The  divine  fell  ill,  and  his  temptations  grew 
stronger.  Vincent,  iull  of  fear  lest  his  friend  should 
yield  to  the  assaults  of  the  enemy,  ceased  not  to  im})lore 
the  divine  mercy  in  his  behalf;  he  offered  himself  to 
God  in  the  sufferer's  stead,  to  undergo  the  same  interior 
trials,  or  any  other  chastisement  His  justice  might  be 
pleased  to  lay  upon  him.  The  sacrifice  was  accepted 
to  its  full  extent ;  the  priest  recovered  his  peace  of  mind ; 
but  the  temptation  from  which  he  was  freed  was  trans- 
ferred to  his  g-enerous  deliverer.  Terrible  was  the  con- 
flict ;  the  more  Vincent  redoubled  his  prayers  and  mor- 
tifications, the  fiercer  grew  the  assaults  of  the  tempter ; 
but  Vincent  lost  not  courag'e,  and  kept  his  heart  fixed 
on  God.  At  length  he  dia  two  things ;  he  committed 
his  confession  of  faith  to  writing,  and  placed  it  on  his 
breast ;  tlien,  making*  a  general  disavowal  of  all  thoughts 
against  faith,  he  entered  into  a  solemn  compact  with  our 
Lord,  that  whenever  he  but  touched  the  spot  where  the 
paper  lay,  the  act  should  be  taken  as  a  renewal  of  his 
profession  of  faith  and  a  renuhciation  of  the  doubts  sug- 
gested to  him,  although  no  word  should  pass  his  lips. 
He  thus  frustrated  all  the  designs  of  the  adversary. 
The  second  remedy  he  adopted  was,  to  do  the  very  con- 
trary of  that  to  which  he  was  tempted,  and  to  devote 
himself  more  than  ever  to  honouring*  Jesus  Christ  in  the 
persons  of  His  suffering*  members.  Four  years  had 
passed  in  this  hard  battle,  when  he  was  moved  to  make 
a  firm  and  inviolable  resolution,  for  the  greater  honour 
of  Jesus  and  to  imitate  Him  more  perfectly,  to  give 
himself  up,  out  of  pure  and  simple  love  of  Him,  for 
the  rest  of  his  life  wholly  to  the  service  of  the  poor. 
Hardly  had  he  formed  this  resolution  when  the  sugges- 
tions of  the  evil  one  entirely  ceased,  and  his  soul  was 


PREFACE. 


XV 


filled  with  such  abundant  lij»:ht,  that  he  seemed  not  so 
much  to  believe,  as  to  see  the  truths  of  faith. 

Vincent  had  thoug-lit  but  to  be  the  servant  of  the 
poor;  but  God  had  chosen  him  to  be  the  teacher  of  the 
wise  and  the  counsellor  of  princes.  From  beinj>'  the 
missioner  of  ignorant  country-pco})le,  he  was  to  become 
the  reformer  of  the  clergy  of  France  and  the  regene- 
rator of  his  country.  We  shall  find  him  instituting* 
spii-itual  retreats  and  exercises  for  such  as  were  about 
to  enter  holy  orders ;  Aveekly  conferences,  in  whicli  the 
clergy  conferred  together  on  matters  connected  with 
the  ecclesiastical  state,  its  virtues  and  its  duties;  a 
seminary,  in  which  the  newly  ordained,  or  such  as  were 
preparing'  for  ordination,  might  "  pass  one  or  two  years 
in  studying  the  hig-her  branches  of  theology,  the  ritual 
of  the  Church,  the  administration  of  the  Sacraments, 
catechising",  and  preaching;"  and  lastly,  a  little  semi- 
nary, in  which  youths  mig-ht,  from  an  early  age,  be 
trained  for  the  service  of  the  altar.*  "  This  last  institu- 
tion," to  quote  again  the  words  of  his  biogmpher,  "com- 
pleted the  whole  work ;  and  thus,  from  ni-st  to  last, 
from  childhood  till  death,  Vincent  had  provided  the 
clergy  of  his  diocese  with  spiritual  nurture.  The  boy 
who  entered  the  seminary  of  St.  Charles  might  in  due 
time  pass  to  that  of  the  Bons  Enfans  to  complete  his 
clerical  studies ;  the  Priory  of  St.  Lazarus  received  him 
at  the  end  of  Ins  course  for  his  solemn  retreat  before 
ordination ;  and  when  he  had  entered  upon  the  duties 
of  his  state  the  same  doors  were  opened  weekly  to  ad- 
mit him  to  the  spiritual  conferences,  which  strengthened 
and  encouraged  him  in  his  arduous  duties ;  while  once 
a  year  he  was  called  ao'ain  into  a  longer  retreat,  that  he 
mig-ht  take  account  of  his  spiritual  state  and  prepare 
for  the  end."t 

♦  "Vincent  de  Paul,"  says  Rohrbacher  (vol.  xxv.  p.  315), 
"was  the  first  in  France,  perhaps  in  the  whole  world,  to  carry 
into  effect  the  intentions  of  the  Council  of  Trent,  in  the  founda- 
tion both  of  a  larger  and  a  smaller  seminary." 

t  Life,  pp.  86,  87. 


XVI 


PREFACE. 


All  this  time  fiimilar  institutions  were  spring-ingf  up 
in  other  parts  of  France ;  for  Vincent  had  most  noble 
and  saintly  emulators,  or  rather  fellow-laboiuers,  in  the 
same  great  field  of  ecclesiastical  reform,  working  inde- 
pendently, yet  like  members  of  one  united  confiaternity, 
in  the  service  of  the  Church.  Among"  the  celebrated 
men  of  exalted  virtue  and  heroic  lives  who  frequented 
the  Tuesday  conferences  of  St.  Ljizarus  were  Adrien 
Bourdoise  (to  whom  allusion  has  been  made),  so  zealous 
in  the  cause  of  ecclesiastical  reform,  and  founder  of  the 
Seminary  of  St.  Nicholas-du-Cliardonnet ;  Claude  Ber- 
nard, self-styled,  in  humility,  the  "  poor  priest,"  one  of 
the  most  powerful  preachers,  as  he  was  certainly  one  of 
the  most  original  men  of  his  day,  the  brilliancy  of  whose 
wit,  which  attracted  to  him  all  that  was  great  and  good 
in  Paris,  was  equalled  only  by  his  burning  charity  and 
love  for  souls, — he  was  founder  of  the  Seminary  of  the 
Trente-Trois,  so  called  from  the  thirty-three  years  of 
our  Saviour's  life  on  earth ;  Jean  Jacques  Olier,  the 
most  saint-like,  as  he  has  been  called,  of  uncanonised 
men,  reformer  par  exceUence  of  the  secular  clergy,  and 
founder  of  the  Seminary  and  Congregation  of  St.  Sul- 
pice ;  Jean  Duval,  Bishop  of  Babylon,  founder  of  the 
House  and  Congregation  of  the  Foreign  Missions ;  the 
celebrated  Bossuet,  Bishop  of  Meaux,  who  himself,  when 
one  of  the  clergy  of  Metz,  assisted  at  a  mission  given  in 
that  place  by  Vincent  de  Paul.  It  is  thus  that  the  last 
spoke  of  the  Saint  and  of  his  conferences  and  retreats  in  a 
letter  addressed  to  Pope  Clement  XI. :  "  When  we  were 
promoted  to  the  priesthood,  it  was  to  Vincent  that  we 
owed  the  preparation  which  we  made ;  and  it  was  under 
his  direction  and  animated  by  his  counsels  that  from 
time  to  time  we  went  tlxrough  the  spiritual  retreats 
which  he  had  instituted ;  we  had  also  the  happiness  of 
being  associated  with  that  company  of  virtuous  eccle- 
siastics who  assembled  every  week  to  confer  together 
on  the  things  of  God.  Vincent  was  the  author  and  the 
very  life  and  soul  of  those  assemblies.  He  never  opened 
his  lips  but  we  all  listened  to  him  with  an  insatiable 


PREFACE. 


XVll 


avidity,  and  felt  in  our  inmost  heart  that  Vincent  was 
one  of  those  men  of  wliom  tlie  Apostle  said,  *  If  any 
man  speak,  let  him  speak  as  the  words  of  God.  If  any 
man  minister*,  let  him  do  it  as  of  the  power  which  God 
administereth.' "  Nor,  amongst  those  who  prepared  the 
way  for  the  estahlishment  of  seminaries  and  reform  of 
the  clergy,  or  assisted  in  giving*  to  France  a  learned  and 
virtuous  priesthood,  must  we  omit  to  mention  the  great 
Oratorians,  Cardinal  de  Berulle  and  F.  de  Condren ;  the 
Jesuits,  Hayneuve  and  St.  Jure ;  and  the  Benedictines, 
Tarisse  and  Bataille. 

But  Vincent  laboured  not  only  to  infuse  fresh  health 
and  vigour  into  the  ecclesiastical  body,  but  to  stem  the 
tide  of  corruption  which  poisoned  its  very  life-springs. 
We  shall  find  this  humble  priest  called  on  by  the  supreme 
power  in  the  stfite  to  recommend  and  in  etfect  to  nomi- 
njite  the  bishops  and  prelates  of  France ;  and  this,  not 
with  the  bare  concurrence,  but  at  the  earnest  solicita- 
tions of  one  whom  the  reader  of  secular  history  knows 
only  as  the   stern,  impassive,  iron-handed   politician, 
Cardinal  Richelieu.    As  Catholics,  as  those  who  believe 
that  nothing,  not  national  aggTandisement,  or  pre-emi- 
nence, or  independence,  can  outweigh  or  is  so  much  as 
worthy  of  being  named  in  comparison  with  the  interests 
of  the  faith  of  Christ  and  the  Church  which  He  founded, 
we  must  unreservedly  condemn  the  policy  whicli  Riche- 
lieu pursued.     That  policy  was  a  policy  of  worldly  ex- 
pediency.    He,  a  prince  of  Holy  Church,  leagued  him- 
self for  reasons  of  state  with  the  implacable  enemies  of 
the  i'aith ;  *'  with  utter  indifference  to  the  vital  interests 
of  religion  transferring  the  government  of  the  Valte- 
line,  which  was  Catholic,  from  Spain  J;o  the  Protestant 
Grisons;  exciting  the  Protestant  princes  of  Germany 
to  carry  devastation  into  the  Catholic  countries  of  the 
south,  and  seeking  every  occasion  to  strengthen  their 
force."  *    First  and  foremost  in  his  mind  stood  France, 

*  Mores  CathoUci,  b.  v.  c.  10.  That  shrewd  observer,  Car- 
dinal de  Ketz,  says  of  him :  "  His  stock  of  religion  was  sufficient 
for  this  world.    Ho  was  led  to  do  good,  either  by  his  own  good 


xvltt 


PREFACE. 


its  temporal  pclory  and  material  prosperity ;  and  after- 
wards camo  ''  the  kiiig'dom  of  God  und  His  justice." 
Yet,  wlien  tlie  interests  of  reli^^ion  did  not  interfere  with 
the  interests,  or  what  he  reg-arded  as  the  interests,  of 
the  state,  or  appeared  coincident  therewith,  he  was  as 
zealous  in  promoting*  tliem  as  he  was  clear-sig-hted  in 
discerning"  tne  measures  to  be  adoj)ted  and  tlie  men  he 
coidd  rely  upon  for  tlieir  executitm.  As  early  as  the 
year  1G14,  when,  being*  Bisliop  of  Lucjon,  he  was  deputy 
for  Poitou,  he  had  harangued  the  States  General  on  the 
subject  of  ecclesiastical  reform,  with  especial  reference 
to  the  abuse  of  patronag-e ;  and  had  called  upon  the 
king",  in  the  strong-est  and  most  moving*  terms,  to  ai>ply 
the  only  effectual  remedy  to  the  evil,  by  receiving  and 
executing*  the  decrees  of  the  Council  of  Trent.  With 
the  powerful  help  of  this  g'reat  minister,  Vincent  was 
enabled  to  effect  most  salutary  and  important  chang*es; 
and  after  Richelieu's  death  his  position  as  a  member  of 
the  Council  of  Conscience,  in  which  capacity  he  pos- 
sessed a  sort  of  veto  on  all  appointments  to  the  hig'hest 
offices  in  the  Church,  gave  liim  extraordinary  facilities 
in  carrying*  the  needed  reforms  into  places  where  cor- 
ruption had  hitherto  reig'ned  supreme. 

Not  that  Vincent  was  able  to  penetrate  altogether 
to  the  root  of  the  evil ;  for  that  root  lay  dee})ly  im- 
bedded in  the  heart  of  that  whole  system  of  government 
in  respect  to  the  Church  which  had  become  nationalised 
in  France — a  system  characterised  by  one  dominant 
idea,  jealousy  of  the  Holy  See,  which  is  of  the  very 
spirit  of  schism ;  for  it  is  nothing  less  than  a  contempt- 
uous and  undutiful  revolt  against  the  source  of  all  ec- 
clesiastical jurisdiction  and  authority^  in  other  words, 
tlie  supremacy  oT  Him  to  whom  all  power  has  been 
given,  in  the  person  of  His  earthly  Vicar.  This  em- 
phatically was  the  spring  and  primary  cause  of  the 
corruptions  that  prevailed  in  the  clergy  and  in  society. 

senso  or  by  his  inclination,  whenever  his  interest  did  not  lead 
him  a  contrary  way,  in  which  case  he  had  a  perfect  knowledge 
of  the  ill  he  did." 


PREFAOB. 


XIX 


cor- 


Rome  was  made  as  li'n'ht  of,  and  kept  as  much  at  a  dis- 
tance, as  was  compatiblo  with  a  profession  on  the  part 
of  the  state  of  communion  witii  the  Apostolic  See; 
hence  the  absorption  by  tlie  crown  and  the  nobles  of  all 
the  patronag;e  of  the  Church,  so  that,  as  it  has  been 
truly  and  forcibly  said,  "  the  Holy  See  ceased  to  be 
primarily  responsible  for  the  way  in  which  it  was  dis- 
pensed. *  Ihis  is  not  the  place  to  do  more  than  indi- 
cate the  real  source  of  the  evils  which  afflicted  and 
degraded  the  Church  of  France ;  the  mischief  Itiy  too 
deep  for  reform,  it  needed  a  revolution — and  such  a 
revolution! — or  rather  revolution  u])on  revolution,  to 
expel  the  virus,  and  restore  a  l)ody  so  org-anically 
diseased  to  health  and  soundness.  What  wonder,  then, 
if  even  a  Vincent  de  Paul,  and  the  saints  and  saintly 
men  who  were  his  fellow-labourers,  were  unable  to  elfect 
more  tlian  a  partial  and  incomplete  cure?  Yet  the 
chang-e  he  wroug-ht  was  so  g'reat  and  so  striking*,  that, 
in  comparison  with  what  had  been  the  state  of  things 
at  the  commencement  of  his  labours,  it  mig'ht  Justly  be 
called  a  restoration  to  life ;  and  a  venerable  prelate  could 
say  boldly  in  the  face  of  the  Saint's  contcsmporaries, 
"  To  Vincent  de  Paul  the  clerg-y  of  France  owe  their 
splendour  and  renown." 

Such  is  the  unfailing"  vig'our,  the  self-reciiperative 
power,  of  every  living-  portion  of  the  Church  (Jtitholic, 
even  in  times  of  the  greatest  depravity.  It  is  able  to 
produce  saints;  and  not  alone  those  rare  and  extraor- 
dinary creations  of  Divine  grace,  but  crowds  of  holy 
men  and  holy  women,  poor  in  spirit,  clean  of  heart,  anH 
filled  with  the  love  of  God,  any  one  of  whom  would  be 
regarded  as  a  marvel  and  a  prodigy  outside  the  Church. 
The  France  of  St.  Vincent's  days  aboimded  in  such ; 
not  Paris  alone,  but  each  provincial  town  had  those 
within  it  who  were  not  merely  good   and  religious 

*  Dublin  JReview,  No.  Ixxii ,  article  "  Jansenism,  Galli- 
canism,  and  Jacobinism,'"  to  which  the  reader  is  referred  for  an 
able  account  of  the  causes  of  the  evils  under  which  the  Church 
of  France  laboured. 


PREFACE. 


people,  but  wiioin  ii  cold  imd  scofHnpf  world  would  call 
pious  entlnisinsts — men  and  women  w  lio  really  preferred 
God  belbre  all  tiling's  else,  and  were  devoted  to  His 
Service,  and  to  tli((  ^<'rvice  of  the  poor  and  the  alflicted 
simply  for  His  sake.  So  that  \'  hen?  sin  abounded,  g'race 
did  Mil  more  abound  ;  and  grievous  as  were  the  scan- 
dals cwused  by  an  unfaithful  clergy  and  a  dissolute 
nobility,  the  })ure  lives  of  these  true  Catholics,  and  their 
deeds  of  holy  heroism,  shed  a  glorious  lustre  over  the 
{gloomy  days  in  which  they  lived. 

Nor  was  it  among-  the  higher  and  more  educated 
classes  alone  that  these  brig-ht  examples  were  to  bo 
found.  The  ranks  of  the  people  yielded  many  a  devout 
child  of  Holy  Church,  and  many  an  ardent  reformer  j 
some  from  the  first  open  and  avowed,  others  known  only 
to  God,  until  He  was  pleased  to  make  their  virtues  and 
labours  public  in  spite  of  themselves.  Of  the  former 
were  Clement  the  cutler,  and  Beaumais  the  draper  (of 
whom  mention  has  been  made),  and  Claude  Leglay, 
whom  the  g-reat  archdeacon  of  Evreux,  Boudon,  calls 
"the  g'ood  Lorrain,"  and  who,  M.  Olier  says,  had  the 
very  S|)irit  of  Elias,  and  a  heart  all  on  fire  and  consumed 
with  the  love  of  God.  Of  the  latter  was  Mary  de 
Gournay.  Her  life,  and  indeed  the  very  existence  of 
such  a  person  at  such  a  time,  furnishes  so  remarkable 
a  testimony  to  that  world  of  sanctity  which  lay  hidden 
beneath  the  surface  of  society  in  France,  that  it  deserves 
a  passing  notice.  She  was  the  wife  of  a  tavern-keeper 
in  Paris ;  and  althoug-h  possessed  of  a  moderate  compe- 
tency, such  was  her  love  of  poverty  and  of  the  poor,  that 
her  dress  was  ever  of  the  meanest,  and  her  food  co 
sisted  only  of  scraps  and  morsels  which  others  wouM 
have  rejected.  Her  humility  and  contempt  ofhei-'-l" 
coiTesponded  with  the  austerity  of  her  life.  Her  one 
great  object  was  to  imitate  the  blessed  Mother  of  God, 
and  in  all  thing's  to  conform  her  interior  dispositions  to 
those  wiUi  which  that  incomparable  Virgin  performed 
the  most  ^.  linary  action.  In  her  fear  of  attracting 
the  estee.n  oi    :;'.i>;rs,  ;="ie  carefully  avoided  every  thing 


PRKP  \rR.  xxi 

which  mig'lit  g'ain  hm*  tlic  roputatitm  of  hc'ing  a  person 
of  piety ;  and  during"  the  twtuty  years  she  imrsu^d  her 
ovocation,  amidst  the  constant  misflf  and  (hstracfiou  of 
a  place  of  puhHc  onteitainniont,  she  allowed  nothing"  to 
appear  which  could  hetray  her  extruordiaary  sanctity 
and  entire  union  with  God.  Not  but  that  hy  some 
sir  ole  timely  word  she  arrested  many  a  sinner  in  his 
'.'I'u'ioii^r  course,  and  drew  many  a  j^uilty  soul  to  re- 
pMituucv,  still  tliero  was  nothing"  al)out  her  to  distiu- 
fj-nish  her  from  a  thousand  others  of  her  class.  At  her 
lidshands  death,  she  chose  for  herself  the  worst  room 
in  the  house,  and  one  too  that,  from  its  situation,  was 
revoc  free  from  noise,  to  which  she  was  naturally  most 
averse ;  l)ut  there  she  matle  a  solitude  to  herself  as 
perfect  as  thoug"h  it  had  heen  a  cave  in  a  desert.  She 
gave  herself  uj)  to  Divine  contemplation;  the  only 
desire  of  her  heart  ])eing"  that  she  mig'ht  speedily  he- 
hold  face  to  face  Ilim  whom  her  soul  loved.  The 
Most  Holy  Eucharist  was  to  her  as  meat  and  drink; 
so  tliat  she  sometimes  passed  whole  days  without  any 
other  nourishment. 

Tills  woman,  so  humble  and  obscure,  and  (at  least 
for  many  years  of  her  life)  to  all  outward  aj>pparance 
devoted  to  a  most  uns[)iriturd,  and,  as  some  mig'lit  even 
think,  disreputable  calling",  was  possessed  with  one  long-- 
ing;  desire — the  reformation  of  the  clergy.  For  this 
she  never  ceased  making"  most  earnest  supplication  to 
God;  for  this  she  offered  all  her  mortihcations  and 
good  works.  JVI.  Olier,  then  a  youth  of  twenty  years, 
was  one  day  ret  urning  with  his  companions  from  a  fair 
at  which  they  had  been  diverting*  themselves,  when  a 
poor  woman,  us  if  her  heart  was  wrung"  with  sorrow, 
said  to  them,  "Ah,  sirs,  I  have  lonff  prayed  for  your 
conversion,  and  I  hope  God  will  still  hear  my  prayers !" 
It  was  3Iary  de  Gournay.  At  her  words  M.  Olier  felt 
himself  moved  to  break  with  the  world  and  give  himself 
up  to  God.  The  Church  knows  the  result.  From  that 
moment  dates  the  conversion  of  the  founder  of  St.  Sul- 
pice.   His  f i .  st  act  was  to  put  himself  under  the  direction 


xxu 


PREFACE. 


of  St.  Vincent,  who  prepared  him  for  holy  orders,  and 
employed  him  on  his  country  missions ;  but  the  person 
who  of  all  others  most  contributed  to  the  establish- 
ment of  his  first  seminary  was  this  despised  cabaretidre 
— the  mistress  of  a  public-house !  Her  virtues  and 
her  piety  were  no  long-er  to  be  hidden  under  a  bushel. 
"  This  woman  of  low  extraction,"  writes  M.  Olier,  "  and 
of  a  condition  in  life  which  it  is  almost  a  disg-race  to 
name,  is  become  the  adviser  of  persons  the  most  illus- 
trious by  birth  and  rank,  and  the  g-uide  of  souls  the 
most  exalted  in  virtue.  Even  princesses  have  recourse 
to  her  counsels,  and  recommend  themselves  and  their 
undertakings  to  Iier  prayers.  The  Duchess  of  Orleans, 
the  Princess  of  Conde,  the  Duchesses  d'Aiguillon  and 
d'Elbeuf,  the  Marchioness  de  la  Chdtre,  and  many 
others,  count  it  an  honour  to  visit  her ;  indeed,  I  have 
known  a  lady  of  the  hig'hest  rank  afraid  of  g'oing  into 
her  presence,  such  was  the  veneration  she  had  for  her 
character.  Souls  the  most  advanced  in  the  ways  of 
perfection  seek  lessons  of  guidance  from  her  lips ;  men 
of  the  most  apostolic  spirit  oo  to  consult  her  before 
entering-  on  any  enterprise  which  they  have  in  con- 
templation. F.  Eudes,  that  famous  preacher,  the 
wonder  of  the  ag'e  j  F.  de  Condren,  Superior  of  the 
Oratory;  Mdlle.  de  Manse,  raised  up  by  God  to  the 
aid  of  the  infant  Church  of  Canada;  M.  le  Royer  de  la 
Dauversi^re,  to  whom  that  Church  may  be  said  to  owe 
its  first  establishment ;  M.  du  Coudray,  devoted  to  the 
missions  of  the  Levant  and  the  defence  of  Christendom 
against  the  Turks ;  Dom  Jacques,  the  Carthusian,  tlie 
bold  rebuker  of  vice  in  the  wealthy  and  the  power- 
ful;— when  these,  and  so  many  others  of  the  most 
zealous  servants  of  God  who .  at  this  day  adorn  the 
Church  of  France,  are  to  be  seen  seeking-  counsel  of 
tliis  wise  and  holy  woman,  we  mig-ht  think  we  beheld 
the  ^Virg'in  most  prudent'  once  more  directing"  the 
Church  of  her  Divine  Son,  and  guiding-  His  Apostles 
after  His  ascension  into  heaven.  She  has  but  to  speak, 
and  at  a  word  all  that  she  asks  or  wishes  is  done  j  and 


PREFACE. 


XXlll 


that  without  any  of  the  exterior  address  or  air  and 
manner  of  command  by  which  such  influence  is  usually 
exerted."* 

They  who  rail  at  the  wickedness  and  shamelessness 
of  the  age,  and  make  it  a  reproach  to  the  Church  of 
France  that  such  vices  and  abuses  prevailed  around 
her  and  within  her,  forg;et  or  are  ig-norant  of  all  this  j 
they  choose  to  ig'nore  the  fact  that  this  Church,  so  cor- 
rupt and  worldly  as  they  deem  her,  nevertheless  produced 
those  three  mag'nificeut  Saints, — a  Francis  de  Sales,  a 
Jane  Frances  de  Chantal,  and  a  Vincent  de  Paul,  and 
that  contemporaneously.  If  Eng'land,t  within  a  term  of 
three  hundred  years,  can  boast  of  a  sino'le  Howard,  how 
great  is  the  g'lory  of  France,  and  of  the  Church  of  France, 
which  in  a  single  generation  gave  birth  to  some  three 
hundred  such  as  he,  and  more  than  he !  Nothing,  in- 
deed, is  more  remarkable  in  the  annals  of  that  Church 
and  country  than  the  array  of  devoted  men  and  women, 
and  the  multitude  of  noble  institutions,  both  religious 
and  charitiible,  which  signalised  an  age  notorious  only 
in  secular  history  for  selfishness,  luxury,  profligacy, 
and  general  hoUowness.  The  present  biourapliy  bears 
ample  testimony  to  the  truth  of  this  assertion :  it  is 
but  the  narrative  of  what  one  man  accomplished ;  and, 
as  has  already  been  said,  kindred  works,  more  or  less 
connected  with  St.  Vincent's  labours,  were  going-  for- 
ward at  the  same  time  in  all  parts  of  Fmnce.  What  an 
evidence  is  here  of  the  immense  amount  of  goodness 
that  existed  in  closest  juxtaposition  with  the  worst  de- 
pravity !  Such  works,  so  numerous  and  so  multifarious, 
could  not  have  been  begun  or  can-ied  on  by  the  few  who 


*  Abridged  from  the  "Life  of  M.  Olier."  . 

f  Not  tlie  "  Church  of  England,"  for  Howard  was  an  Inde- 
pendent :  indeed  his  acts  of  self-devotion  were  the  product  of 
his  own  generous  and  God-loving  heart,  and  cannot  be  referred 
to  any  religious  sect  or  party.  They  were  Ihe  acts  of  an 
individual;  and  as  they  originited  with  himself,  so  they  ter- 
minated with  himself:  he  founded  no  institution,  he  left  no  suc- 
cessors. 


XXIV 


PREFACE. 


I 


originated  them,  but  by  the  co-operation  of  a  multi- 
tude of  auxiharies ;  and  these  again  must  liave  found, 
as  in  fact  they  did  find,  willing"  subjects  whereon  to 
exercise  their  mission,  and  who  responded  to,  or  at  least 
succumbed  before,  the  influences  brought  to  bear  upon 
them.  The  people  of  France  were  sincerely,  cordially 
Catholic,  and  had  all  the  moral  and  religious  suscepti- 
bilities, and  all  the  capacity  of  vividly  realising  super- 
natural truths,  which  characterise  those  who  ])03sess 
tlie  gift  of  faith.  Say  that  the  clergy  were  su])ine  and 
vicious,  that  society  was  depraved  and  corrupt ;  yet  it 
is  the  fact  that  that  same  clergy  obeyed  the  call  of  the 
preachers  of  penance,  and  submitted  to  the  discipline 
prescribed  by  their  reformers ;  and  that  the  people  by 
thousands  recognised  the  voice  of  their  true  pastors, 
and  with  tears  of  genuine  contrition  confessed  their  sins 
and  amended  tlieir  lives.  And  where  is  the  Church 
not  in  communion  with  the  See  of  Peter,  in  which 
such  a  revival  has  been  begun  and  effectuated,  not  by 
eccentric  and  extraordinary  influences  as  from  without, 
but  by  the  reo-ularly  organised  efforts  of  its  own  proper 
pastors,  and  by  the  authority  and  under  the  direction 
of  its  own  bishops  and  prelates '{ — a  true  and  solid  re- 
formation, not  a  barren  and  faithless  compromise  on 
some  lower  platform  of  expediency ;  not  a  patching  up 
and  hiding'  of  sores  for  which  no  cure  could  be  found, 
or  the  remedies  for  which  men  would  not  tolerate  ;  but 
a  real  restoration,  and  a  vigorous  enforcement  of  eccle- 
siastical discipline;  a  return  and  a  rising  again  to  the 
highest  and  holiest  standard  of  religious  practice. 

The  Archbishop  of  Paris,  weak  man  as  he  was,  and 
vain-glorious,  and  even  scandalous  in  his  private  life, 
willingly  helped  on  the  movement.  We  shall  find  him 
bestowing  on  Vincent  de  Paul  the  College  des  Bons 
Enfans  as  a  residence  for  his  Congregation,  and  re- 
quiring from  every  candidate  for  ordination  in  his 
diocese  a  ten  days'  retreat  under  the  Saint's  direction. 
His  nephew,  De  Retz,  was  no  sooner  appointed  his 
coadjutor,  than  he,  on  his  part,  undertook  to  examine 


L..-. 


PREFACE. 


XXV 


kme 


into  the  sufficiency  of  all  the  priests  under  his  jurisdic- 
tion, erecting"  for  that  purpose  three  tribunals,  com- 
posed of  canons,  cures,  and  rehg'ious,  who  were  to 
make  a  threefold  division;  1st,  of  priests  who  wei-e 
adequately  proficient  in  the  learning"  and  knowledge 
necessary  for  their  state ;  2dly,  of  those  who  were  in- 
sufficiently instructed,  hut  were  capable  of  learning"  j 
3dly,  of  those  who  were  neither  instructed  nor  ca- 
pable. The  first  were  allowed  to  continue  the  exercise 
of  their  functions ;  the  second  received  such  instruction 
as  they  needed ;  while  the  third  were  only  taug-ht  to 
live  piously.  For  this  g'reat  object  he  relates  that  con- 
siderable sums  were  broug'ht  to  him  froip  all  parts, 
and  there  was  not  a  pious  man  whose  j)urse  was  not 
liberally  opened.  At  the  same  time  his  private  chari- 
ties were  great,  and  now,  whatever  might  have  been 
the  case  before  his  elevation,  from  no  love  of  ostenta- 
tion ;  on  the  contrary,  he  strove  to  conceal  them,  and 
his  liberality  sprang*,  as  he  says,  from  no  other  motive 
than  his  natural  inclination,  and  the  single  view  of  what 
might  justly  be  expected  from  him.  riot  that  he  had 
repented  of  his  immoralities,  or  that  his  secret  life  was 
more  in  accordance  with  the  Divine  rule ;  but  he  knew 
what  was  due  to  his  episcopal  character,  and,  outwardly 
at  least,  desired  to  conform  to  the  obligations  of  his 
state.  Even  Mazarin,  for  all  his  contempt  of  religion, 
was  carried  along  by  a  mo\  ^ment  which  he  could  not 
resist,  though  he  attempted  to  thwart  it  by  appearing* 
to  control  it,  and  was  Vincent's  reluctant  ally  in  his 
work  of  reformation.  The  inner  life  and  the  outward 
behest  of  the  Church  proved  too  strong"  for  such  men ; 
and  tliey  either  surrendered  themselves  voluntarily  to 
the  tide  of  improvement,  or  strug-gied  impotentl}"",  and 
were  borne  on  against  their  will. 

So  true  it  is,  that  in  days  the  most  evil,  and  in 
despite  of  individual  delinquency  and  unfaithfulness  on 
the  part  of  those  in  authority,  the  Church,  corporately 
and  collectively,  ever  bears  witness  against  the  world : 
the  quahty  of  her  teaching*  is  not  strained,  her  standard 


XXVI 


PREFACE. 


of  morality  is  not  lowered,  the  instincts  of  her  children 
are  not  blunted ;  public  opinion  within  her  pale  ever 
approves  and  upholds  the  holiest  rule,  the  severest 
restraints ;  her  priests  are  preachers  of  justice,  her  pre- 
lates are  zealous  for  the  Divine  law  and  the  discipline 
of  a  holy  life  j  saints  are  her  natural  product,  and  their 
^bours  and  successes  are  her  own. 

E.  H.  T. 


;^ 


smsK^rvnrn^mwmt^w^n^^m 


zxvu 


CONTENTS. 


CDAP.  PAOB 

I.  Birth,  youth,  and  college  life         •       •       •       .      1 
II.  Vincent  in  slavery 8 

III.  First  visit  to  Paris 15 

IV.  Vincent  in  the  family  of  De  Gondi        .        .        .20 
V.  Vincent  among  the  galley-slaves  .        .        .        .31 

VI.  Vincent  at  Ma5on 34 

VII.  Vincent  and  St  Jane  Francs  de  Chantal     .        .    40 

VIII.  The  Countess  de  Joigny  and  the  New  Order        .    46 

IX.  The  College  des  Bons  Enfans        ....    53 

X.  The  Priory  of  St.  Lazarus     .  ...    68 

XI.  Institutions  for  the  clergy     .....    77 

XII.  Madame  Le  Gras 89 

XIII.  The  Sisters  of  Charity 94 

XIV.  The  Hotel-Dieu 101 

XV.  The  Foundling  Hospital 108 

XVI.  Convicts,  idiots,  and  reprobates     .        .        .        .114 
XVII.  Lorraine — its  sufferings  and  its  succours      .        .121 

XVIIL  Vincent  in  office 140 

XIX.  Vincent  and  Jansenism 162 

XX.  The  foreign  missions     .        .        ,        .        .        .162 

XXI.  Missions  in  Ireland        .    ' 177 

XXII.  Vincent's  tour  of  visitation  and  succour  of  Picardy  186 
XXIII.  The  Hospital  of  the  Name  of  Jesus,  and  the  General 

Hospital 196 

XXrV.  Death  and  Canonisation  of  Vincent  de  Paul .        .  203 


m 


fffe  0f  St.  iittcent  be  fanl 


wt>C^5K(»>»- 


CHAPTER  I. 

BIBin,  TOUTH,  AND  COLLEGB  LIFE. 

E  should  obtain  a  very  partial  and 
inadequate  idea  of  the  social  and 
religious  state  of  France  in  the 
first  half  of  the   seventeenth  century, 
were  we  to  overlook  or  to  undervalue 
the  part  that  was  played  during"  that 
^    eventful  period  by  the  tnily  great  man,  a  sketch 
f     of  whose  life  and  labours  is  here  presented  to  the 
reader.     For  if,  on  the  one  hand,  it  be  true  that 
we  cannot  separate  Vincent  do  Paul  from  the  world 
around  him  without  depriving  him  of  half  his  glory,  and 
his  actions  of  much  of  their  significance  r.nd  interest, 
equally  time  is  it,  on  the  other,  that  we  should  make 
ourselves  but  imperfectly  acquainted  with  the  charac- 
teristics of  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  and  its  bearing 
on  succeeding  times jLif  we  put  out  of  sight,  or  excluded 
from  our  consideration,"  the^works  that  were  achieved, 
and  the  institutions  that  were  founded,  by  one  of  the 
most  energetic  reformers,  as  well  as  most  distinguished 
apostles   of  charity,   wliom   mankind  has   ever  seen. 
Humble  and  retiring  as  he  was  by  natural  disposition, 
as  well  as  by  divine  grace,  he  yet  exercised  an  iniiuenco 
upon  his  country  which  produced  wonderful  effects  in 
Ilia  own  day,  and  which,  far  from  passing  away  with 

B 


:f    I 


.  '.Mis' 


I 


2 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


his  earthly  life,  has  continued  to  grow  and  aug-ment, 
until,  in  the  present  ag'e,  it  makes  itself  felt  beyond  the 
confines  of  France,  and  knows  no  limit  but  such  as 
bounds  humanity  itself. 

In  the  eyo  of  the  historian,  indeed,  Vincent  de  Paul 
was  only  a  simple  priest,  who  contented  himself  with 
doing  his  work  in  a  quiet,  unobtrusive  way,. and  who, 
making*  no  great  noise  in  the  world,  scarcely  attmcted 
the  attention  of  his  contemporaries,  and  gained  no  place 
in  the  pages  of  his  country's  annals.  True  he  could 
reckon  a  cardinal  and  more  than  one  crowned  head 
among  his  truest  friends;  and  in  times  of  need  he  could 
fill,  with  more  than  ordinary  success,  the  responsible 
ofiice  of  councillor  and  adviser  to  a  queen  regent ;  but 
these,  it  may  be  said,  were  the  exception  and  not  the 
rule  of  his  life.  Nevertheless,  Vincent  de  Paul  was 
one  of  those  real  heroes  whose  influence  upon  their 
contemporaries  is  far  gTeater  than  that  of  men  whose 
names  are  familiar  to  all.  They  originate  movements 
in  which  others  acquire  renown;  they  sow  the  seeds, 
while  others  reap  the  harvest ;  they  change,  it  may  be, 
the  very  habits  and  manners  of  a  nation :  and  yet  his- 
tory is  silent  as  to  their  course,  and  neglects  to  recog- 
nise their  power. 

So  was  it  with  Vincent  de  Paul.  Many  a  student 
of  French  history  may  never  have  met  with  his  name, 
and  yet  it  may  be  questioned  whether  any  one  man  has 
done  more  to  benefit  his  country  than  this  poor  single- 
hearted  priest.  How  few  who  have  read  of  those  fierce 
civil  wars  which  devastated  France  for  more  than  a 
century  and  a  half,  have  ever  thought  of  Vincent  de 
Paul  as  one  of  the  great  and  influential  characters  in 
those  times  of  agitation  and  peril!  Names  there  are, 
familiar  to  us  as  household  words,  which  rise  almost 
unconsciously  to  our  lips  when  the  deeds  of  those  dark 
days  are  mentioned;  yet  what  place  does  this  great  Saint 
occupy  in  the  list?  Guise,  Coligny,  Conde,  Montmo- 
rency, Henry  of  Navarre,  Mary  of  Medicis,  Richelieu, 
and  il'Marm, — who  is  not  acquainted  with  these,  and 


CH.  I.]      BIRTH,  YOUTH,  AND  COLLEGE  LIFE.  3 

a  host  of  otlici'S,  who  fill  the  pag-e  of  history  and  stand 
out  so  prominently  in  those  terrible  pictures  which  fix 
themselves  indelibly  unon  iiie  memory  i  Yet  is  there 
one  as  great  and  as  influential  as  any  of  them,  of  whom 
the  general  reader  knows  literally  nothing-. 

Could  we  forg'et  the  incessant  antug-onism  of  the 
Church  and  the  world,  we  mig'ht  almost  wonder  tliat, 
for  the  mere  sake  of  relief  and  artistic  contrast,  the 
secular  historian  should  not  sometimes  notice  such  men 
as  Vincent  de  Paul.  Who  has  not  grown  wearied  with 
the  never-ending'  scenes  of  intrigue  and  bloodshed  which 
form  the  staple  of  what  is  commonly  called  history? 
wlio  has  not  laid  down  with  aching-  heart  the  volume 
which,  however  skilfully  it  may  have  set  forth  the 
crimes  of  former  days,  fatigues  by  the  weight  of  guilt 
and  injustice  which  it  so  faithfully  records.''  who  has 
not  longed  for  the  appearance  of  some  new  personages 
who,  like  Vincent,  might  play  an  angel's  part  in  the 
very  worst  of  these  sad  times,  and  show  that  a  merciful 
Providence  has  never  ceased  to  raise  up  posverful  in- 
struments to  alleviate  the  sufl"ering  which  then  most 
calls  for  help ;  and  who,  when  hearts  are  coldest  and 
religion  seems  well  nigh  banished  from  the  land,  bear 
about  in  their  own  pure  souls  the  undying  fire  of  love, 
and  kindle  on  all  sides  the  expiring  embers  into  a  genial 
flame?  Surely  characters  like  these  are  intended  as 
the  consolation  of  history ;  they  are  as  briglit  stars  to 
lighten  at  night,  as  sweet  tokens  of  a  divine  presence 
in  the  midst  of  sin  and  infidelity,  as  green  spots  upon 
which  the  wearied  may  rest  in  traversing  that  dreiu-y 
wilderness  which  men's  passions  have  made  of  the 
world's  chronicles. 

In  the  village  of  Pouy,  near  Acqs  in  Gascony,  there 
lived,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  sixteentli  century,  a  poor 
villager  named  John  de  Paul,  who  struggled  hard  to 
support  his  wife  and  six  children  upon  the  produce  of 
the  little  piece  of  land  which  his  family  hel{)ed  him  to 
cultivate.     He  was  a  simple  open-hearted  peasant  j  one 


i\l^ 


^m 


'  M 


:.  ]  H 


1  i 


4 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


who  lived  in  tlio  fenr  und  lovo  of  God,  nnd  wiio  in  liis 
own  plain  way  trained  up  his  children  in  the  same  pious 
course.  His  wife,  Bertranda  do  ]Moras,  was  the  fittin<^ 
partner  of  such  a  man ;  and  thus  they  lived  not  only 
without  reproach,  but  with  edification  to  their  neig-h- 
bours.  The  villag'o  contained  a  chapel  dedicated  to  the 
Mother  of  God,  under  the  name  of  Our  Lady  of  Bug- 
lose,  which  was  much  frequented  by  the  people  of  those 
parts  as  a  place  of  pilf^rimage. 

Among-  the  children  of  this  humble  family  was  one, 
the  fourth,  born  in  167G,  whoso  ftiVent  piety  and  })re- 
cocious  ability  attracted  the  especial  attention  of  his 
parents.  He  laboured  in  the  fields  with  the  otliers ;  he 
shared  in  the  watching*  of  the  sheep  and  swine ;  yet  he 
was  unlike  those  about  him.  Tiie  power  of  Mary  was 
there  where  her  name  was  so  especially  honoured,  and 
the  heart  of  the  youthful  Vincent  seemed  to  expand 
beneath  its  influence,  and  to  have  caj)acity  to  receive  it 
in  its  fulness.  Nor  did  his  intellect  lag-  behinu  his  af- 
fections. The  poor  shepherd  boy,  in  his  silent  wander- 
ing's amid  the  Pyrenees,  communed  with  God  and  his 
own  heart ;  divine  gi-ace  streng'thening-  what  it  had  first 
implanted,  the  child  g-rew  in  favour  with  God  and  man, 
like  the  Divine  Infant  whose  in  an  especial  manner  he 
was,  and  whom  he  was  to  serve  so  faithfully  in  a  long* 
life. 

The  piety  and  g-enius  of  the  young*  Vincent  were  not 
unmarked  by  his  father,  who  plainly  saw  tliat  he  was 
destined  for  some  hig-her  st-ation  than  that  which  the 
family  occupied ;  and  what  natiu-ally  sug-g-ested  itself  to 
his  pious  mind  but  that  which  is  \\\q  highest  to  which 
a  Chinstian  can  asi)ire  1  "  He  must  be  a  })riest,"  said 
the  poor  peasant.  Nor  did  the  position  appear  beyond 
his  reach ;  for  it  seems  there  was  a  neig-hbouring-  family 
in  no  better  circumstances  than  his  own  which  had 
g-iven  a  priest  to  Holy  Church,  who  had  since  become 
the  prior  of  an  adjacent  convent,  and  who  failed  not  to 
re})ay  the  past  sacrifices  of  his  family  by  doing*  much  to 
advance  his  own  brothers.     Perhaps  this  latter  cii'cum- 


on.  1.]      BIRTH,  YOUTH,  AND  COLLEOK  LIFE.  6 

stance  wns  not  witliout  its  influence  upon  Jolin  de  Paul 
wlum  he  deti'rniincd  to  educate  his  pious  child,  i»nd 
worldly  ])rudence  mi<^'ht  have  its  slian;  in  stren^thenini** 
liiin  for  the  sacrifice  such  a  dotorniination  recpiired. 
But  ni:in  proposes,  and  God  (lis|)oses.  The  sacrifice  was 
made ;  the  boy  in  due  time  ht^camo  a  priest ;  but  in  no 
earthly  respect  did  his  family  |)rofit  there))y,  as  the 
event  showed.  Years  afterwards,  wlien  Vincent  was 
living"  in  Paris,  a  ])riest  from  his  native  ])lace  visited 
hiin  to  urg-e  him  to  do  something'  for  his  relations,  who 
were  as  poor  as  ever.  He  only  replied  :  "  l)o  they  not 
live  as  of  old,  lionestly  and  contentedly,  by  their  labour, 
in  the  state  in  which  God  placed  them  V*  And  then  he 
went  on  to  show,  from  the  example  of  this  very  prior, 
how  little  the  families  of  priests  profit  by  what  they 
g'ain  from  the  Church ;  and  how,  as  in  this  particular 
case,  it  too  often  happens,  that  wealth  thus  obtained 
brings  with  it  a  curse  rather  than  a  blessing*.  Those 
who  enrich  themselves  with  the  portion  of  the  poor, 
God  sooner  or  later  deprives  of  such  ill-gotten  gain. 
There  is  little  danger  of  this  action  being  misunder- 
stood ;  Vincent's  heart  was  too  tender,  his  affections  too 
warm,  for  any  to  accuse  him  of  coldness  and  apathy. 
When  his  own  personal  interests  alone  stood  in  the  way 
of  his  liberality,  the  stream  of  charity  flowed  on  un- 
checked, as  is  well  illustrated  by  a  circumstance  which 
occurred  when  he  was  about  twelve  years  of  age.  He 
had  managed  to  save  up  from  time  to  time  as  much  as 
thirty  sous, — a  large  sum  for  one  so  young,  and  in  a 
place  where  money  was  so  scarce, — when  one  day  he 
met  a  poor  man  in  such  great  distress  that  his  heart  was 
fairly  overcome,  and  he  g"ave  him  the  whole  of  his  little 
treasure. 

When  his  father  had  determined  to  educate  Vincent 
for  the  priesthood,  the  question  arose  as  to  the  cheapest 
way  of  doing  so,  for  his  narrow  means  could  at  best  but 
furnish  little  j  he  therefore  sent  him  to  the  Franciscan 
friars  at  Acqs,  who  agreed  to  receive  him  for  the  small 
pension  of  sixty  livres,  about  six  jwunds  a-year.     It 


8?.' 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


wns  in  1588  that  he  hoi'-nn  liis  studies  with  the  rndi- 
Tiumts  of  Latin ;  and  in  four  yoars  he  lind  made  such 
progress,  tiiat  j\i.  Coinmet,  a  lawyiM'  in  tiio  town,  upon 
the  recoinincndation  of  the  father-g-iuu'dinn  of  the  con- 
vent, received  him  into  his  liouse  as  tutor  to  liis  cliil- 
dren.  Tiiis  at  once  reHeved  John  do  Paul  from  the 
burden  of  liis  son's  support,  and  enal)Ied  Vincent,  with 
a  quiet  mind  and  without  any  misg-iving-s  on  that  head, 
to  pursue  liis  own  studies  while  he  formed  the  charac- 
ters of  his  little  pupils.  For  fire  years  he  continued  in 
this  ])osition,  when  M.  Commet  felt  it  his  duty  to  |)art 
with  one  whom  he  loved  as  a  son,  and  who  had  edified 
liis  whole  family  hy  his  i)iety.  lie  saw  that  Vincent 
was  called  to  a  holier  state  and  to  a  higher  sphere  than 
that  which  he  then  occupied ;  and  with  an  aching*  heart 
and  with  many  tenrs  he  sent  the  youthful  scholar  to 
the  university  of  Toulouse,  having  first  j)rocured  for 
him  minor  orders  at  Acqs.  This  was  in  159G,  when 
Vincent  was  twenty  years  of  age.  Vincent  never  again 
saw  his  native  ])rovince.  His  parents  sent  him  their 
blessing,  and  sold  two  of  their  oxen  to  provide  him  with 
the  means  for  his  journey. 

He  continued  his  studies  at  Toulouse  for  seven 
years;  but  during  that  interval  he  visited  Spain,  and 
remained  for  some  time  at  the  university  of  Saragossa. 

He  was  made  subdeacon  on  the  27th  of  February 
1508,  and  deacon  on  the  20th  of  December  of  the  same 
year;  and  on  September  23d,  IGOO,  he  was  promoted 
to  the  priesthood.  When  and  where  he  said  his  first 
Mass  is  not  known ;  all  that  could  ever  be  learned  from 
him  on  the  subject  was,  that  he  was  so  im])ressed  with 
the  majesty  of  the  divine  action,  and  so  overwhelmed 
with  a  sense  of  his  own  utter  unworthiness  to  offer  such 
a  tremendous  sacrifice,  that  he  had  not  courage  enough 
to  celebrate  publicly,  and  that,  therefore,  he  chose  a 
retired  chapel,  when  none  were  present  but  a  server  and 
a  priest  to  direct  him. 

As  soon  ns  he  was  ordained,  the  Vicar-general  of 
Acqs  (the  bishopric  being  at  that  time  vacant)  ap- 


r  seven 


CH.  I.]      BIRTH,  VOUTH,  AND  COLLEGE  LIFE.  7 

pointed  liim  to  the  pm-isli  of  Tilli,  us  niucli  tliroiio'h 
regard  for  Vincent  himscilf  us  on  account  of  his  {Ad 
friend  M.  (h  Commot,  who  solicited  that  j)refernient 
for  liim.  But,  fortunately  for  the  youni^;  priest,  a  com- 
petitor arose,  who  disputed  the  apj)ointment  and  ap- 
pealed to  Rome ;  and  Vincent,  being*  unwilling*  to  enter 
mto  a  contest,  g-ave  u[)  his  claim,  and  thus  was  enabled 
to  continue  the  studies  which  he  loved  so  much. 

Vincent  mig-ht  have  claimed  a  maintenance  from 
his  family  ;  for  his  father  had  died  some  two  years  be- 
fore, and  in  his  will  had  left  our  Saint  enough  for  this 
purpose;  but  ho  determined  to  burden  his  family  no 
further,  and  accepted  a  tutorship  wiiich  was  offered  to 
liim  at  Buset,  about  twelve  iniha  from  Toulouse.  Here 
several  of  the  neighbouring*  gentry  sent  their  sons  to 
board  with  him,  and  some  came  also  from  Toulouse, — 
as  he  told  his  mother  in  a  letter  he  wrote  about  this 
time.  His  success  with  his  pupils,  and  the  great  at- 
tachment they  formed  for  him,  enabled  him  shortly 
afterwards  to  return  to  Toidouse  and  to  take  them  witn 
him,  and  thus  was  he  enabled  to  continue  his  theologi- 
cal studies.  It  was  not  until  after  his  death  that  it 
was  known  how  long  and  how  successfully  ho  had  stu- 
died in  this  university.  He  always  spoke  of  himself  as 
a  poor  scholar  who  had  gone  througli  a  four-years' 
course,  which  was  true  enou<>*h,  as  we  have  seen  tliat  at 
the  end  of  that  course  he  leit  Toidouse ;  but  in  his  hu- 
mility and  desire  to  conceal  the  honours  he  had  gained, 
he  said  nothing*  of  his  subsequent  return,  nor  of  the  de- 
gree of  bachelor  of  divinity  which  he  gained  in  1604, 
nor  of  the  other  distinctioiis  which  he  received  there. 
It  required  a  search  in  the  archives  of  the  university  to 
find  the  official  documents  which  certify  to  these  ho- 
nours, which  the  Saint  so  carefully  concealed. 


■M 


8 


CHAPTER  n. 


nVCVST  IN  SLAYERT. 


DuniNQ  the  time  that  Vincent  remained  at  Toulouse, 
lie  continued  to  gain  the  esteem  of  all  who  came  in 
contact  with  him.  The  number  of  his  pupils  increased, 
and  a  fair  prospect  of  success  presented  itself.  But  a 
higher  and  more  important  position  was  opening  before 
him.  For  it  appears  that  he  had  been  given  to  under- 
stand that  the  powerful  Duke  d'Epernon  w^ould  use  his 
great  influence  to  obtain  a  bishopric  for  the  favourite 
tutor  of  two  of  his  near  relations.  Such  were  his  pros- 
pects, when  an  event  occurred  which  frustrated  all  these 
{)lans,  and  gave  a  new  turn  to  his  quiet  and  studious 
ife.  The  providence  of  God  designed  to  try  him  before 
giving  him  his  great  work ;  he  must  pass,  like  so  many 
other  saints,  through  tlie  ftiniace  of  affliction,  that  the 
precious  metal  of  his  soul  might  be  tempered  for  the 
task  about  to  be  committed  to  him. 

Business  of  importance  called  him  from  Toulouse  to 
Bourdeaux.  He  made  the  journey,  and  was  on  his  re- 
turn to  Toulouse,  when  he  learned  that  one  of  his  friends 
had  died  during"  his  absence,  and  left  him  heir  to  a  con- 
siderable sum  of  money.  One  of  the  debtors  of  this 
friend  had  run  away  to  jMnrseilles  to  avoid  paying  what 
he  owed,  although  he  had  plenty  of  means  of  so  doing. 
Vincent  therefore  went  to  Marseilles,  and  agreed  to  ac- 
cept a  sum  of  tliree  himdred  crowns  in  payment  of  this 
debt.  It  was  in  July  1605  that  he  arranged  this  affair; 
and  he  was  on  the  point  of  returning  to  Toulouse  by 
land,  when  a  fellow-traveller  persuaded  him  to  go  by 
water  to  Narbonne ;  an  arrangement  to  which  he  wil- 
lingly consented,  as  it  was  a  fair  season  and  promised 
a  shorter  journey.  During  this  voyage  he  was  cap- 
tured by  some  African  pirates,  and  canied  prisoner 


■BHBHeB— 


CH.  II.]         ^        VINCENT  IN  SLAVERY.  9 

to  Tunis.  A  letter  has  been  preserved,  in  which  he 
relates  the  whole  matter  to  one  of  his  earliest  pupils, 
the  son  of  his  old  patron  M.  de  Commet. 

"  I  set  out,"  he  says,  "forNarbonne  by  water,  that 
I  might  aiTive  there  the  sooner  and  spend  less  money ; 
or,  I  should  ratlier  say,  that  I  might  never  arrive  there 
at  all,  and  that  I  might  lose  all  I  possessed.  The  wind 
was  so  favourable,  that  we  should  have  made  the 
voyage  to  Narbonne  in  a  single  day,  though  it  Avas 
a  distance  of  150  miles,  had  not  God  permitted  three 
Turkish  brigantines  (which  were  coasting  along  the 
gulf  of  Lyons,  to  waylay  the  vessels  that  sailed  from 
Beaucaire,  where  there  is  one  of  the  best  markets  in 
Christendom)  to  attack  and  board  us  so  fiercely,  that 
two  or  three  of  our  party  were  killed,  and  all  the  rest 
wounded,  and  I  received  a  wound  from  an  arrow  which 
I  shall  remember  for  the  rest  of  my  life ;  so  we  were 
obliged  to  suiTender  to  these  pirates.  The  first  effect 
of  their  rage  was  the  murder  of  our  pilot,  whom  they 
hacked  to  pieces,  in  revenge  for  the  loss  of  one  of  their 
chiefs,  and  of  four  or  five  galley-slaves,  whom  our  men 
had  killed ;  after  this  they  cast  us  all  into  chains,  and 
having  dressed  us  in  scant  clothing,  they  continued 
their  course  of  pillage  on  other  vessels,  but  always  gave 
liberty  to  those  who  submitted  without  opposition  to 
their  depredations.  At  length,  after  seven  or  eight 
days,  they  directed  their  vessel,  laden  with  merchandise, 
towards  Barbary, — that  den  and  hiding-place  of  the 
Grand  Turk's  shameless  thieves.  When  we  arrived 
there,  we  were  exposed  for  sale,  with  a  formal  declara- 
tion of  our  capture,  which  set  forth  that  we  were  taken 
in  a  Spanish  vessel ;  becaui='e,  but  for  this  falsehood,  we 
should  have  been,  liberated  by  the  consul  whom  our 
king  has  placed  there  to  protect  the  interests  of  the 
French.  They  set  about  our  sale  in  tliis  way:  first 
they  stripped  us;  then  they  gave  each  of  us  a  pair  of 
drawers,  a  linen  coat,  and  a  cap;  thus  equipped,  tliey 
marched  us  through  the  city  of  Tunis,  whither  they 
went  expressly  to  sell  us.     After  taking  us  round  the 


'»"* 


S       i 

■Mi 

ill 

';n 

u 

M 

10 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


city  five  or  six  times,  with  chains  about  our  necks,  they 
brought  us  back  to  the  boat,  that  the  merchants  mig-iit 
see  who  could  feed  well,  and  who  could  not,  and  that 
our  wounds  were  not  mortal.  This  done,  they  led  us 
back  to  the  market-place,  where  the  merchants  came 
and  examined  us  as  they  do  horses  and  cattle  at  a  fair ; 
making-  us  open  our  mouths  and  show  our  teeth,  pinch- 
ing' our  sides  and  probino*  our  wounds,  and  making  us 
walk,  trot,  and  run,  lift  burdens  and  wrestle,  to  show 
our  strength,  besides  a  thousand  other  brutahties. 

"  I  was  sold  to  a  fif-herman,  who  was  soon  con- 
strained to  get  rid  of  me ;  for  nothing  disagrees  with 
me  like  the  sea.  He  sold  me  to  an  old  chemist,  a  mighty 
extractor  of  quintessences,  a  humane  and  easy  personage, 
who,  as  he  told  me,  had  tolled  for  fifty  years  hi  search 
of  the  philosopher's  stone.  He  loved  me  greatly, 
and  took  pleasure  in  talking  with  me  about  alchemy, 
and  still  more  about  his  law ;  to  which  he  used  every 
effort  to  attract  me,  promising  me  all  his  riches  and 
all  his  knowledge.  God  worked  in  me  all  along  a  be- 
lief that  I  should  gain  my  liberty  through  the  assiduous 
Srayers  which  I  offered  to  Him,  and  to  the  Virgin 
lary,  by  whose  intercession  alone  I  firmly  believe  that 
I  was  set  free.  Hope,  then,  and  the  firm  conviction 
that  I  had  of  again  seeing  you,  sir,  made  me  still  more 
attentive  in  learnino*  how  to  cure  the  gravel,  in  which  I 
saw  my  master  daily  doing  wonders;  he  taught  H'?  his 
method,  and  made  me  both  prepare  and  administer  the 
ingredients.  Oh,  how  often  did  I  wish  that  I  had 
been  a  slave  before  the  death  of  your  father;  for  I  be- 
lieve that  if  I  had  known  the  secret  I  now  send  you,  he 
would  not  have  died  of  that  complaint.  I  remained 
with  this  old  man  from  September  1005  until  August 
1G06,  when  he  was  taken  and  sent  to  try  his  skill  on. 
the  Grand  Sultan;  but  he  died  of  gi'ief  on  his  road,  and 
so  the  journey  was  in  vain. 

"  He  left  me  to  one  of  his  nephews,  who  was  a 
thorough  man-hater ;  but  he  soon  sold  me  again  after 
his  uncle's  death,  having  heard  that  M.  de  Breves,  the 


H 


X 


CH.  II.] 


VINCENT  IN  SLAVERY. 


11 


a 
3r 


French  ambassador  in  Turkey,  was  coming  with  ex- 
press authority  from  the  Grand  Turk  to  liberate  all  the 
Christian  slaves.  A  reneg-ade  from  JN'ice  in  Savoy,  a 
sworn  enemy,  boug'ht  me,  and  sent  me  to  his  tcinat, 
as  they  call  the  farm  they  rent  under  the  Grand  Turk ; 
for  there  the  people  possess  nothing",  but  all  belong-s  to 
the  Sultan  j  the  temat  of  this  person  was  in  the  moun- 
tains, where  the  country  is  very  hot  and  barren.  He 
had  three  wives,  of  whom  one  was  a  Greek  Christian, 
but  a  schismatic ;  another  was  a  Turk,  who  became  the 
mstrument  of  the  infinite  mercy  of  God  in  delivering* 
her  husband  from  his  apostasy  and  restorinj^  him  to 
the  bosom  of  the  Chureh,  and  also  in  delivering*  me 
from  my  captivity.  She  was  curious  to  know  our 
manner  of  life,  and  came  to  see  me  every  day  in  the 
fields  where  I  was  dig-ging- ;  and  one  day  she  ordered 
me  to  sing"  the  praises  of  my  God.  The  remembrance 
of  the  '  How  can  we  sing"  in  a  strangle  land'  of  the  caj)- 
tive  children  of  Israel  made  me  beg'in,  with  tears  in 
my  eyes,  the  Psalm,  *  By  the  waters  of  Babylon,'  and 
after  that  the  *  Salve  Reg'inu/  and  several  other  things. 
It  was  wonderful  to  see  with  what  pleasure  she  listened ; 
and  she  failed  not  to  tell  her  husband  that  same  night 
that  he  had  done  wrong"  in  leaving"  his  relig"ion ;  that 
she  esteemed  it  very  highly,  from  the  account  which  I 
had  g"iven  her  of  our  God,  and  from  several  hymns 
which  I  had  sung"  in  her  presence;  in  which  she  said 
she  had  experienced  such  delight,  that  she  did  not  be- 
lieve the  Paradise  of  her  fathers,  and  that  which  she  had 
hoped  for,  could  be  so  glorious,  or  accompanied  with 
such  joy,  as  the  satisfaction  she  had  received  while  I 
sang  the  praises  of  my  God ;  concluding  that  there 
must  be  something  marvellous  in  it.  This  woman,  liko 
another  Caiphas,  or  like  Balaam's  ass,  made  such  an 
impression  upon  her  husband,  that  he  told  me  the  next 
day  that  he  should  consider  it  a  great  gain  if  we  could 
escape  into  France,  and  that  he  hoped  in  a  few  dnys 
that  we  should  have  to  give  God  thanks  for  the  same. 
These  few  days  lasted  six  months,  during  which  he  sus- 


ff1- 


12 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


tained  me  witli  this  hopo ;  at  the  end  of  which  time  we 
escaped  in  a  little  skitt',  and  reached  Aig'ues  Moi-tos  on 
the  :28th  of  June;  and  shortly  afterwards  arrived  at 
Avig-non,  Avhere  the  Vice-legate  publicly  received  the 
reneg'ade,  with  tearful  eyes  and  heartfelt  sobs,  into  the 
church  of  St.  Peter,  to  the  g"lory  of  God  and  the  edifi- 
cation of  all  present.  This  prelate  has  kept  us  both 
with  him,  intending*  to  take  us  to  Rome,  whither  he 
Q'oes  immediately  u[)on  the  arrival  here  of  his  su  cessor. 
He  has  promised  the  penitent  to  place  him  in  the  severe 
convent  of  the  '  Fate  ben  Fratelli,'  to  which  he  has 
dedicated  himself." 

Such  is  the  accoimt  Vincent  himself  g-ives  of  his 
captivity.  The  whole  letter  is  characteristic  of  the 
man.  Not  one  word  of  com])laint,  no  vivid  painting"  of 
the  sufferings  he  endured ;  but  a  simple  cheerful  narra- 
tive, full  of  submission  and  devotion,  and  marked  with 
that  quiet  humour  which  never  failed  him.  And  yet, 
such  was  his  humility,  that  he  tried  his  best  to  destroy 
even  this  simple  chronicle  of  his  early  life.  The  cir- 
cumstances under  which  this  letter  was  preserved  are 
too  curious  to  be  passed  over  in  silence. 

It  was  in  June  1607  that  he  escaped  from  slavery; 
and  this  letter  is  dated  from  Avig-non,  July  24,  1607, 
just  after  the  reconciliation  of  his  reneg'ade  master.  In 
1058  the  letter  was  found  among*  some  other  papers  by 
a  g-entleman  at  Acqs,  who  gave  it  to  his  uncle,  one  of 
the  canons  of  the  cathedral  in  that  city.  The  canon 
sent  a  copy  of  it  to  Vincent  two  years  before  the  death 
of  the  Saint,  thinking*  that  the  old  man  might  like  to 
read  his  youthful  adventures.  He  read  it,  and  he  cast 
it  into  the  fire ;  and  immediately  wrote  to  the  canon, 
tlianking*  him  for  the  copy  he  had  sent,  and  requesting 
him  to  send  the  original  also.  It  seems  that  the  canon 
did  not  comply  with  this  request ;  for  the  Saint  wrote 
again,  only  six  months  before  his  death,  pressing  him 
very  earnestly  to  send  the  original  letter.  The  secre- 
tary, who  wrote  at  Vincent's  dictation,  suspecting*  that 
the  said  letter  contained  something  which  would  re- 


CH.  II.] 


VINCENT  IN  SLAVERY. 


13 


In 
of 


m 


dound  to  his  praise,  and  that  he  only  wished  to  get  it 
in  order  to  burn  it  as  he  had  burned  the  copy,  and 
thus  to  suppress  the  circumstance,  whatever  it  mig'ht 
be,  slipped  in  a  private  note  of  his  own  to  the  canon, 
begging'  him  to  send  the  original  to  some  ono  else 
rather  than  to  Vincent,  if  he  did  not  wish  it  to  be  de- 
stroyed. This  was  done:  the  letter  was  directed  to 
one  of  the  priests  of  St.  Lazarus ;  and  thus  it  was  pre- 
served. He  never  afterwards  once  alhided  in  conver- 
sation or  writing  to  his  slavery  in  Tunis;  althoug'h  he 
had  much  to  do  with  the  care  of  slaves,  never  did  his 
brethren  nor  his  most  intimate  friends  hear  him  men- 
tion it. 

Vincent  arrived  at  Rome,  in  compan}^  with  the  Vice- 
legate,  towards  tlie  end  of  the  year  100?,  and  remained 
in  that  city  imtil  the  end  of  1GU8.  During*  his  stay  in 
the  Eternal  City,  the  Vice-legate  made  him  one  of  his 
own  family,  and  provided  for  all  his  needs.  Wl  at  sa- 
tisfaction he  felt  during  this  time  he  himself  recorded 
thirty  years  later,  in  a  letter  he  wrote  to  a  priest  of  his 
company  then  in  Rome.  "  What  consolation  was  it  to 
me,"  he  saj^s,  "  to  find  myself  in  that  city,  the  mistress 
of  Christendom,  the  dwelling*  of  the  head  of  the  Church 
militant,  the  sjwt  where  are  the  bodies  of  St.  Peter  and 
of  St.  Paul,  and  of  so  many  other  martyrs,  and  of  holy 
personages,  who  in  ptist  times  have  shed  their  blood 
and  spent  their  lives  for  Jesus  Christ;  how  happy  I  con- 
lidered  myself  to  be  in  treading*  the  very  ways  so  many 
«»Teat  saints  had  trodden !  it  was  a  consolation  which 
affected  me  even  to  tears."  Yet,  with  so  many  thing's 
to  distract  and  divert  his  attention,  his  love  for  study 
triumphed  over  all,  and  he  gladly  returned  at  every 
leisure  moment  to  the  pursuits  which  he  had  engaged  in 
at  Toulouse.  He  did  not  remain  long  in  Rome;  for 
among'  others  to  whom  his  patron  the  Vice-legate  had 
introduced  him  was  the  Cardinal  d'Ossat,  who  con- 
ceived so  hig'h  an  opinion  of  him,  that  shortly  after- 
wards, having-  a  very  important  communication  to  make 
to  the  French  king-,  which  he  was  unwilling-  to  commit 


4 


I 


14 


ST.  VINCENT  DB  PAUL. 


to  writing",  he  intrusted  it  to  V^incent,  and  sent  him  to 
Paris  to  communicate  it  by  word  of  mouth  to  Henry  IV. 
Here,  aj>-ain,  was  anotiier  opportunity  of  g-aining* 
distinction,  which  came  imsoug'ht;  what  others  had 
toiled  to  attain,  Vincent  found,  as  it  were,  tlirust  upon 
him.  Eng-ag-ed  in  a  mission  of  sucli  importance,  to  a 
king  so  anxious  as  Henry  IV.  to  attach  useful  men 
to  his  person,  and  from  one  of  such  influence  as  the 
Cardinal  d'Ossat,  he  needed  but  a  short  attendance 
at  court  under  such  circumstances  to  have  gained  high 
distinction.  But  Vincent  had  other  views;  and  having- 
discharged  his  mission  with  care  and  fidelity,  he  quietly 
withdrew  from  scenes  whose  splendour  had  no  attrac- 
tion in  his  eyes  Indeed,  he  seems  to  have  taken 
pains  to  keep  out  of  siglit  every  thing  which  r^ight 
tend  to  his  advantage.  For  instance,  ho  had  hitherto 
been  always  called  M.  de  Paul,  which  was  his  surname; 
but  fearing  that  it  might  make  people  suppose  him  to 
be  a  person  of  g-ood  family,  ho  had  himself  called  for 
the  future  M.  Vincent,  the  name  he  had  received  in 
baptism,  and  by  which  he  was  accordingly  designated 
during  the  g-reater  part  of  his  life. 


T^^i^iL.'ra  uiM*u4>A<oid«UN#itfii,->;ate>»tAiMtetHi 


15 


[I  hig-h 


CHAPTER  in. 


FIRST  VISIT  TO  PARIS. 


It  is  interesting"  to  meet  w'th  the  descriptions  wliich 
are  g-iven  of  Vincent  at  dit^ei  jnt  periods  of  his  life ,  it 
satisfies  in  some  measure  the  wish  so  naturally  felt,  to 
see  him  as  he  appeared  to  his  contemporaries.  An  inti- 
mate friend  says  of  him  at  this  time,  when,  after  leaving' 
the  court,  he  resided  for  a  short  time  in  the  Faubourg* 
Saint  Germain,  "  He  seems  to  be  very  humble,  cha- 
ritable, and  prudent;  doing*  good  to  every  one,  and 
troubling  none;  cii'cumspect  in  what  he  says,  listening* 
quietly  to  others,  and  never  interrupting'  them;  and 
ever  employing"  himself  diligently  in  visiting,  succour- 
ing, and  exhorting-  the  poor."  Such  was  Vincent,  then, 
before  his  g-roat  work  was  assigned  him :  training  him- 
self in  the  school  of  Christ,  and  doing*  on  a  small  scale 
what  afterwards  he  was  to  carry  out  so  largely;  but 
doing*  it  in  the  same  spirit,  with  the  same  humility,  the 
same  quiet  perseverance,  the  same  patience,  and  the 
same  cheerfulness. 

During  this  visit  to  Paris  a  strange  accident  oc- 
curred, which  must  have  sorely  tried  his  patience,  "but 
in  which  he  triumphed  gloriously  over  human  frailty, 
and  proved  the  strength  of  the  foundation  upon  which 
his  virtue  was  built.  It  chanced  that  while  he  was 
lodging"  in  the  Faubourg  Saint  Germain,  a  certain 
country  mag-istrate  from  Landes  shared  his  chamber,  and 
one  day  falsely  accused  Vincent  of  having  robbed  him  of 
400  crowns.  The  fact  was,  that  the  judge  rose  early 
one  morning,  and  went  out  to  transact  some  business  in 
the  city ;  but  forgot  to  lock  a  cabinet  in  which  he  had 
placed  his  money.  He  left  Vincent  in  bed ;  for  he  was 
unwell,  and  expected  some  medicine,  for  which  he  had 
sent.    The  apothecary's  boy  brought  the  physic,  and 


mm 
ft "  ■ 


■liit 


if^il 


m 


16 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


wliile  lookiii}^"  in  the  cabinot  for  a  g-lass,  saw  tlie  money. 
Tlie  temptation  proved  too  <»Teat  for  the  hid,  who  silently 
took  the  money  and  carried  it  away  with  him.  When 
the  mag'istrate  returned,  great  was  liis  astonishment  to 
find  the  money  gone ;  and  upon  (piestioning  Vincent, 
he  could  g'et  no  other  answer  than  that  he  liad  not 
taken  it,  nor  had  he  seen  any  one  else  do  so.  The 
mag'istrate  stormed  and  ragecl,  and  insisted  upon  his 
making  up  tlie  loss ;  he  drove  Vincent  from  liis  lodg- 
ing's, proclaimed  him  on  all  sides  as  a  rogue  and  a  thief, 
and  carried  his  complaints  to  every  one  to  whom  he 
was  known  and  with  whom  he  had  any  intimacy ;  and 
happening  to  know  that  Vincent  frequently  visited 
Father  de  Berulle,  at  that  time  the  general-superior  of 
the  Oratorians,  and  afterwards  a  cardinal,  he  went  and 
found  him  there  one  day  in  company  with  some  tlistin- 
guished  persons,  and  in  their  presence  accused  him  of 
this  robbery.  Vincent  did  not  show  any  trouble  or  re- 
sentment at  this  public  insult,  nor  did  he  take  pains  to 
justify  himself;  he  merely  said,  in  his  own  quiet  way, 
"  God  knows  the  truth." 

But  thx-ug'h  Vincent  took  no  pains  to  vindicate  him- 
self, God  did  not  suffer  His  faithful  servant  to  remain 
under  this  imputation.  Within  a  few  years  the  boy 
who  had  stolen  the  money  was  arrested  and  imprisoned 
at  Bourdeaux  uj)on  some  other  charge.  He  was  thus 
brought  into  the  province  and  within  the  jurisdiction  of 
the  very  mag'istrate  whom  he  had  plundered.  Urged 
by  remorse  of  conscience,  he  sent  for  the  judge,  acknow- 
ledged the  robbery,  and  promised  to  make  restitution. 
The  magistrate  immediately  wrote  to  Vincent  to  beg  his 
pardon ;  he  prayed  him  to  send  him  his  forgiveness  in 
writing-';  protesting  that  if  he  did  not  do  so,  he  would 
come  to  Paris  witli  a  rope  about  his  neck  and  cast  him- 
self as  a  supi)liant  at  his  feet, 

Vincent  in  after  years  turned  this  incident  to  the 
profit  of  his  spiritual  children ;  but  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  conceal  his  own  merits,  relating  it  as  though  it  had 
befallen  some  other  person.    This  was  a  favourite  prac- 


ClI.  III.J 


FIRST  VISIT  TO  PAIIIS. 


17 


rg-ed 


the 

as 

~^iad 

fac- 


tico  witli  him,  by  means  of  wliich  (.Vi.ers  profited  by  his 
experience,  without  any  prejudice  to  his  own  humihty 
and  love  of  self-forpcotfulness.  In  a  conference  at  St. 
Lnzurus  upon  the  sul>ject  of  correction,  he  said  :  "  If  we 
have  not  committed  tlie  fault  of  wliich  we  are  accused,* 
let  us  bear  in  mind  that  we  have  been  g'uilty  of  many 
otliers,  and  for  them  we  ought  to  desire  to  bear  this 
sliame ;  and  so  we  should  receive  it  silently,  and  above 
all  thing's  we  must  avoid  the  expression  of  anger  ag'ainst 
those  who  accuse  us. 

"  I  knew  a  person,  who,  upon  being  accused  by  his 
com])anion  of  having  robbed  him  of  some  money, 
mildly  answered  that  he  had  not  taken  it;  but  seeing 
the  other  persevere  in  the  accusation,  he  turned  himself 
to  God,  and  said  to  Him :  *  Wha^j  have  I  done,  my 
God  'i  Thou  knowest  the  truth !'  And  thereupon  ho 
put  himself  in  the  Lord's  hands,  and  resolved  to  give 
no  further  answer  to  tl'e  charge,  although  his  accusei 
went  so  far  as  to  take  out  a  summons  against  him,  and 
served  him  with  a  formal  notice.  And  then  it  came  to 
pass,  and  God  permitted  it,  that  in  about  six  years 
the  man  who  had  lost  the  money  found  the  thief  in  a 
distant  part  of  the  country.  Behold,  then,  the  care 
which  Providence  takes  of  those  who  trust  therein. 
And  then  this  man,  caUing  to  mind  the  injury  he  had 
done  his  innocent  friend  through  his  passion  and  evil- 
speaking,  wrote  a  letter  to  beg  his  pardon;  telling-  him 
that  he  was  so  angry  with  himself  for  what  he  had 
done,  that  he  had  determined  to  come  all  the  wiiy  to 
beg  forgiveness  on  liis  knees.  Let  us,  my  brethren, 
judge  ourselves  deserving  of  all  the  evil  which  is  said 
against  us ;  and  let  us  leave  to  God  the  task  of  mani- 
festing the  secrets  of  conscience." 

It  was  about  this  time  that  Vincent  determined  to 
live  no  longer  among  seculars,  but  to  enter  more  fully 
upon  the  duties  of  his  ecclesiastical  state.  Feeling  un- 
willing* to  take  any  step  in  so  momentous  a  matter 
merely  upon  hi  •  own  convictions,  he  determined  to  go 
into  retreat,  and  put  himself  under  the  diiection  of 


m 


If  I 

?    ■  ■  .    .  ■    f. 


:  ■-! 


p- 


18 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


some  experienced  confessor.  He  naturally  turned  to 
his  friends  the  Fathers  of  the  Oratory,  and  entered 
their  house,  where  he  remained  about  two  years ;  not 
with  any  intention  of  joining-  that  community,  hut  that 
'he  mig'lit  be  more  at  leisure  to  learn  his  vocation,  and 
prepare  for  its  fulfilment,  under  the  judicious  direction 
of  th(»ir  celebrated  head.  Father  de  Boridle.  At  the 
end  of  this  period  the  parish  of  Clichy,  in  the  neig'?  - 
bourhood  or  Paris,  became  vacant  by  the  resignation 
of  ]M.  Bourg-oing",  who  entered  the  Oratory,  and  after- 
wards became  Father  Superior;  and,  at  the  recom- 
mendation of  Father  de  Berulle,  Vincent  consented  to 
accept  that  parish.  Two  or  three  years  previously 
Henry  IV.  had  named  him,  at  tlie  recommendation  of 
Cardinal  d'Ossat,  to  the  abbacy  of  St.  Leonard  de 
Chaume,  in  the  diocese  of  Rochelle ;  and  Queen  Mar- 
garet of  Valois  had  about  the  same  time  made  him 
her  chaplain,  and  in  this  quality  had  placed  him  over 
her  household.  All  these  high  offices  were  cast  aside, 
that  he  might  devote  himself  to  the  service  of  those  he 
best  loved,  the  poor  and  the  little  ones  of  Christ. 

It  is  easy  to  imag-ine  with  what  zeal  and  devotion 
Vincent  entered  upon  his  duties  at  Clichy.  Those  who 
knew  him,  tell  ot  the  incessant  labours  in  which  he 
toiled  for  his  poor  flock;  visiting  the  sick,  comforting 
the  afflicted,  reliovin<^  the  poor,  reconciling"  enemies,  re- 
imiting-  friends,  recalling*  the  negligent  to  their  duties, 
encouraging  the  good,  becoming*  all  things  to  all  men, 
that  he  might  g'ain  all  to  Christ.  With  all  these  many 
and  various  duties,  there  was  nothing*  like  confusion  or 
hurry.  He  found  time  for  all  tliing-s;  time  to  listen 
with  patience  to  the  long*  and  tedious  niirratives  in 
which  uneducated  people  indulg*e  so  freely ;  he  had  a 
sweet  smile  for  those  who  could  prize  it;  a  gentle 
manner  to  win  the  confidence  of  the  timid ;  and  yet 
withal  stern  ways  and  severe  words  for  those  who 
needed  them.  And  while  he  thus  laboured  in  rearing 
up  the  spiritual  fabric,  he  failed  not  to  do  what  was 
needed  in  the    material  church.      Civil  war  and  the 


CH.  III.J 


FIRST  VISIT  TO  PARIS. 


10 


curso  of  religious  division  had  for  years  devastatod  the 
land :  souls  were  lost,  while  churches  were  j)r()t'iuifHl  and 
destroyed ;  and  he  who  would  be  a  faithful  pastor  must 
gather  up  the  scattered  Hock  and  restore  the  dr'sncnited 
altar.  Vincent  did  both ;  ho  who  so  j>rized  the  beauty 
of  holiness,  was  not  unmindful  of  what  was  due  to  tho 
house  of  God.  He  was  too  jealous  of  his  Master's 
honour,  to  leave  the  place  of  His  dwelling-  uncared  for. 
We  soon  find  him  entirely  rebuilding  tlie  little  church 
of  Clichy ;  not  with  his  own  means,  for  ho  had  nothing 
to  give ;  nor  solely  by  the  alms  of  his  people,  for  they 
had  suffered  too  much  in  the  wars  to  imdertake  so 
great  a  work.  His  influence  remained  wherever  he 
had  been;  and  he  never  wanted  means  to  do  Qod's 
work;  when  his  needs  were  known. 


^  .1: 


duties, 
men, 
many 

lion  or 
listen 

7es  in 

lad  a 

entle 

I  yet 

who 


'^**- 


20 


CHAPTER   IV. 


VINCENT  IN  THE  FAMILY  OF  UE  OONDI. 


lie  courso  of  about  three  yenrs,  nftrnely,  in  1013, 
er  d'3  Boi'ullo  persimded  Vincent  to  quit  iiis  purisli, 


In  the  courso  of  about  three 
Futiier 

and  to  enter  the  family  of  tlie  Count  de  Joig-ny,  as 
tutor  to  liis  tiiree  sons.  Ag'tiin  he  submitted  to  the 
decision  of  his  director,  and  left  his  poor  and  beloved 
flock  to  ussociute  once  more  with  the  great  ones  of  the 
earth.  The  position  was  important  and  responsible. 
Emmanuel  de  Gondi,  Count  de  Joig-ny,  was  one  of  the 
lirhit  of  the  French  nobility,  and  his  wife,  Frances  de 
Silly,  was  as  disting'uisluul  for  her  l»iety  as  for  her  hig'h 
birth.  Their  three  children  were  naturally  marked  out 
for  hig'h  and  imj)ortant  stations  in  whatever  courso  of 
life  they  mig'ht  embark;  so  that,  in  selecting' Vincent 
do  Paul  for  their  j)reci'ptor,  M.  tie  Beridle  showed  the 
hig'h  opinion  he  entertained,  not  only  of  his  princij)les, 
but  of  liis  [)ower  over  the  minds  of  others.  One  of  these 
children  died  young",  the  other  two  held  a  conspicuous 
place  in  history ;  the  elder,  as  the  Duke  de  Ketz,  suc- 
ceeded to  the  honours  of  the  family,  and  the  young'er, 
as  coadjutor,  and  afterwards  Archl)ishop  of  Paris,  'and 
Cardinal  de  lietz,  played  a  prominent  part  in  the  wars 
of  the  Fronde. 

Vincent  spent  twelve  years  in  this  family,  more  like 
a  monk  than  a  domestic  clinplain.  and  least  of  all  like  a 
cl]a})lain  of  those  times,  when  civil  wars,  relig-ious  dis- 
sensions, and  the  spread  of  infidelity,  g'ave  a  sanction  to 
almost  every  excess.  He  made  it  a  rule  never  to  ])re- 
sent  hinirelf  before  the  Count  or  Countess  except  when 
sent  for;  and  when  he  was  not  eng-.ig-ed  with  his  pupils, 
he  lived  alone  in  his  -.-hamber ;  and  thus,  in  a  g'reat  house 
filled  witli  people,  lie  preserved  the  silt'uce  and  recollec- 
tion of  a  Cistertian.  But  there  were  other  duties  which 
di'ew  him  forth  from  liis  retirement, — calls  which  it  was 


ClI.  IV.]    VI.VrFNT  IV  TIIR  FAAIII  V  OP  T)E  OOSni.      21 

not  in  his  nutuvH  to  resist.  Any  {rood  ottioo  tor  tho 
gj)iritu!il  ii(lv:ii»tii^'(!  of  unutlicr,  any  ii('l[)  in  sicktu^ss  or 
in  oth»'r  disfrcs^,  luiy  (inn-Tcl  to  1)0  set  ri|4"lit,  any  dis- 
j)ut(!  to  1)0  IicuKmI  (and  in  tli(!S(!  ticico  tinu;s,  and  amid 
tlu)  nitaincis  of  n  •••ix'tit  lionsc,  wo  nniy  he  snro  there 
V'onld  1)0  many  >n('li),  wonhl  draw  liim  from  ins  cell, 
and  Vincent  wonld  find  (fti()n|.'h  to  ^-ratify  his  mission- 
ary Z(!al.  Under  his  "•'cntlo  intiminco  the  charact^'r  of 
tlu!  honse  ^Tudna'iy  changed, — ii  religious  tone  parsed 
over  the  whole;  and  on  the  approach  of  g'reat  fo-tivals, 
Vinr'cnt  mij^-ht  be  seen  snrronndcd  by  tlu*  I'etainei-s,  in- 
strncting"  and  preparin<>'  them  for  Holy  Oonnnnnion. 
Wlien  the  family  visited  any  of  thiir  comiti'y  residences, 
as  Joij^'ny,  Montmirail,  and  Villei)renx,  he  ibnnd  fresh 
ocenpation  and  new  pleasnre  in  s|)endnig*  his  times  of 
recreation  in  instnictin<»'  and  cat<»chisin^'  the  ])oor,  in 
preachinij;'  to  the  people,  and  in  }ulministerin<^'  the  Sacra- 
ments (especially  that  of  penance),  in  wiiich  he  rec(!ived 
the  cordial  sanction  of  the  bishops  and  the  ready  co- 
operation of  the  parisli-priests. 

Of  the  members  of  this  family  there  was  none  who 
sympathised  so  fnlly  with  Vincent,  or  who  entered  so 
completely  into  all  nis  plans  f"  the  sj)iritnal  advance- 
ment of  the  honsehold  or  the  relief  of  the  peasantry,  as 
the  lady  who  presided  ovt  r  it.  She  was  the  first  to 
discern  Jiis  worth,  and  the  fii>;t  to  pnt  herself  under  Ids 
spiritnal  direction.  Belore  his  coming*  among'  them, 
slie  had  been  the  p'otoctor  of  the  orphan  and  the 
widow,  tlie  friend  ot  the  friendless,  tiio  vindicator  of 
the  oppressed.  It  was  on  the  occasion  of  one  of  these 
visits  to  a  country-seat,  that  an  event  occurred  whi(.'ii 
ultimately  led  to  the  formation  of  the  g'l-eat  in-titutiou 
which  is  the  ghjry  of  Vincent's  name,  the  Cong-reg-.ition 
of  tlie  Mission. 

In  10 10,  lie  accompanied  the  Countess  to  tlie  castle 
of  FoUeville,  in  the  diocese  of  Amiens  ;  where  they  re- 
mained for  some  time.  As  usual,  Vincent  employ (»d 
himself  in  labours  of  mercy,  and  was  one  day  requested 
to  g-o  to  the  village  of  Gannes,  about  six  miles  fi-om 


*  .'I 


1 


22 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


the  castle,  to  hear  tlie  confession  of  a  peasant  who  was 
dang'erously  ill,  and  who  earnestly  desired  this  conso- 
lation. Wliile  he  was  on  his  way  thither,  it  occurred 
to  him  that  it  vrould  he  saier  ibr  the  dying'  man  to 
make  a  general  confession,  as,  althono-]i  ho  had  always 
lived  in  g-ood  repute  among-  his  neig-hbours,  it  mig-iit 
be  a  still  I'urther  seciu-itv  for  him.  The  result  showed 
tliat  this  thong'lit  was  a  special  inspiration  of  ( Jod,  who 
designed  to  show  mercy  to  a  })erishing"  soul,  and  to 
snatch  it  from  tlie  brink  of  a  precipice ;  for  Vincent 
found  that  he  who  had  lived  with  such  a  fair  reputation 
was  in  truth  burdened  with  several  mortal  sins,  which 
he  had  for  years  concealed  through  shame ;  and  so  he 
had  lived  on,  making*  sacrileg-ious  confessions  and  com- 
munions until  the  last,  when  God  in  His  infinite  mercy 
sent  a  strang-er  to  confess  him.  The  man  made  no 
secret  of  this,  but  openly  avowed  it  in  the  presence 
of  the  Countess  and  of  others.  "  Ah,  madam,"  said 
he,  "  I  shoidd  have  been  danmed  had  I  not  made  a 
g'ener.'d  concession;  for  tiiere  were  several  gTOSs  sins 
which  I  had  never  before  dared  to  confess." 

These  awful  words  made  a  ])rofound  impression  upon 
all  present,  and  led  the  Countess  to  exclaim,  turning*  to 
Vincent :  "Ah,  sir !  what  is  this  tliat  we  hear  ?  Doubt- 
less this  is  the  case  with  many  other  pooi'  creatures. 
If  this  man,  who  had  so  fair  a  reputation,  was  in  a 
state  of  dtimnatiun,  what  must  be  the  state  of  those 
whose  lives  are  much  worse  ?  Oh,  jM.  Vincent,  how 
many  sotds  destroy  iliemselves !  and  where  is  the  re- 
medy for  tliis  V*  Jt  was  a  hard  cpiestion ;  but  difhcult 
as  it  was,  Vincent  g'aw  it  a  noble  answer  in  the  insti- 
tution wliii'h  g'rew  out  of  this  day's  experience,  and 
wliich  did  for  thousands  wliat  he  had  done  for  this  poor 
peasant. 

It  was  in  January  1017  that  tlie  event  occurred 
which  has  just  been  related;  and  that  ' ';e  g"Ood  work 
thus  beg'un  mig'ht  g'O  on  and  bear  fruit,  the  Countess 
requested  Vincent  to  ])reach  in  the  church  at  Folleville, 
on  the  Feast  of  tho  Conversion  of  St.  Paul,  uoon  this 


ures. 
in  a 
hose 
liow 

re- 
cult 
insti- 

and 
poor 


CH.  IV.]  VINCENT  IN  THE  FAMILY  OF  DE  OONDI.  23 

same  sul)ject  of  a  g-eneral  confession.  Ihe  effect  can- 
not be  better  told  than  in  the  modest  langMKig-e  of  tlie 
Saint  himself.  "  I  set  before  them/'  he  says,  "  the  im- 
portance and  usefulness  of  making  a  general  confession, 
and  explained  the  best  way  of  making-  it;  and  God  re- 
u'arded  so  favoui'ably  the  confidence  and  firm  faith  of 
!ris  lady — (for  the  great  number  and  enormity  of  my 
siiis  must  have  ciiecked  the  fruit  of  this  good  action) — 
that  lie  gave  His  blessing  to  my  discourse,  and  the 
g-ood  people  were  so  moved  by  God,  that  they  all  came 
to  make  their  general  confessions.  I  continued  to  in- 
struct and  })repare  them  for  the  Sacraments,  and  ))egan 
to  hear  then*  confessions  ;  but  the  crowd  was  so  great, 
that,  even  with  the  assistance  of  anotlier  priest  who 
came  to  my  aid,  there  was  more  than  I  could  do,  and 
so  tlie  Countess  sent  to  beg  the  Jesuit  Fathers  at 
Amiens  to  come  and  help  us.  She  wrote  to  the  reve- 
rend rector,  who  came  himself;  but  as  he  could  not 
remain  long,  he  sent  anotlier  father  to  take  his  place, 
who  assisted  us  in  the  confessional  as  well  as  in  preach- 
ing and  catechising;  and,  through  the  mercy  of  God, 
he  had  enoug-h  to  do.  We  afterwards  went  to  the 
neighbouring  villages,  which  belonged  to  the  Countess, 
and  continued  the  same  system.  Every  where  there 
was  a  large  assembly  of  people,  and  God's  blessing- 
crowned  the  woi-k.  Such  was  the  first  sermon  of  the 
mission,  and  such  tlie  success  which  God  gave  it  on  the 
day  of  the  Conversion  of  St.  Paul ;  and  not  Avithout  a 
special  reason  did  God  bring  it  to  pas?  on  that  day." 

It  was  Vincent's  wish  that  this  day  should  be  cele- 
brated bv  his  conf;Te<>"ation  as  their  chief  festival :  each 
return  of  it  was  marked  by  him  with  sj)ecial  praytjrs 
and  thanksgivings,  in  gratitude  for  what  (lod  had  done 
by  and  for  them,  and  in  earnest  su])p!icati(m  for  His 
abiding  presence.  His  spiritual  children  still  celebrate 
this  annual  feast,  in  commemoration  of  this  first  work 
of  tlieir  mission.  lUit  though,  in  one  sense,  it  is  true 
that  the  work  of  the  mission  beu'an  at  this  time,  inas- 
much  as  Vincent  then  acted  upon  the  principle  which 


r-  "^    •    I 

!■■■ 


}    i 


IS. 


'i 


" 


!l 


24 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


he  afterwards  developed  and  systematised,  yet  full  eig'lit 
years  intervened  before  the  work  was  formally  entered 
iH)on  and  the  congneg-ation  formed.  It  is  very  doubt- 
ful whether  at  this  time  the  Saint  had  any  view  beyond 
the  present  necessity ;  whether  he  did  more  than  use 
the  instruments  which  presented  themselves  first  to  his 
hands,  to  be  laid  aside  when  the  immediate  end  was 
answered.  But  whatever  may  have  been  his  ideas  on 
the  subject,  it  is  evident  that  he  iiad  no  intention  of 
founding'  a  cong-regation  at  that  time ;  for  the  Countess, 
who  acted  under  his  spiritual  direction,  seeing-  the  need 
of  repeating"  this  same  work  at  regular  intervals,  espe- 
cially amono'the  peasantry,  determined  to  give  10,000 
livres  (800/.)  to  some  religious  community,  upon  condi- 
tion of  its  undertaking'  this  duty  on  her  own  estates 


once  every  hve  years, 


and  commissioned  Vincent  to 


carry  her  design  into  execution.  In  accordance  with 
her  wishes,  he  made  the  offer  to  Father  Chartel,  the 
Provincial  of  the  Jesuits,  who  promised  to  write  to 
them  on  the  subject,  and  ultimately  declined  it.  The 
offer  was  alterwards  made  to  the  Fathers  of  the  Ora- 
tory, who  also  refused  it.  Upon  this,  the  Countess, 
not  knowing  to  whom  to  apply,  made  her  will,  in  which 
she  left  the  same  sum  to  found  the  mission  in  whatever 
place  and  manner  M.  Vincent  might  judge  most  fit- 
ting. God,  in  His  providence,  had  evidently  reserved 
this  particular  work  tor  our  Saint,  and  would  not  j)ermit 
others  to  take  it  in  hand. 

In  July  of  this  same  year  (1017),  Vincent  formed 
the  resoluti(m  of  leaving  his  friends  and  benefactors, 
and  devoting  himself  to  parochial  duties-  Ilis  henrt 
all  along  yearned  after  the  poor,  and  he  seemed  to  feel 
that  he  was  not  fulfilling  his  vocation  while  he  was  not 
entirely  engaged  in  their  service.  Besides,  he  was  not 
content  with  his  position  in  the  house  of  Gondi.  He 
disliked  the  honours  and  tokens  of  affection  which  he 
received ;  the  high  esteem  in  which  he  was  held  pained 
aud  distressed  him;  he  feared  lest  the  influence  he  had 
obtained  might  be  but  a  snare  to  hold  him  back  from 


'5 
!ill't 

Feel 
not 
not 
He 
he 
Hed 
pad 


CH.  IV.]    VINCENT  IN  THE  FAMILY  OF  DE  GONDI.     26 

the  wfiY  of  perfection.  Moreover,  the  pToat  assistance 
the  Countess  had  received  from  him  in  her  spiritual  ad- 
vancement, and  in  her  many  schemes  for  the  benefit  of 
her  household  and  denendents,  made  her  relv  so  com- 
pletely  upon  him,  that  she  could  not  rest  during*  his  ab- 
sence; and  thus,  when  any  ])ressing'  necessity  called  him 
away,  her  anxiety  was  extreme  lest  any  accident  sliould 
befall  him,  and  she  shoidd  thereby  be  deprived  of  her 
dii'ector.  Vincent  feared  lest  she  mig'ht  hinder  her  own 
progTess  in  the  spiritual  life  by  this  over-dependence 
upon  man,  and  felt  that  it  might  be  better  for  all  tliat 
lie  should  withdraw ;  and,  at  every  sacrifice  of  feeling-, 
he  quietly  left  Pnris,  and,  at  the  sug-g-estion  of  M.  de 
BeruUe,  went  to  Chatillon-h'S-Dombes  in  Bresse,  where 
he  entei-ed  uiion  his  missionary  labours  with  his  usual 
zeal  and  dvr^i     •  u 

The  dist  ;  >f  the  family  of  Goncii,  when  they 
found  that  \  mcent  had  left  them,  was  great ;  and  ur- 
gent were  the  letters  both  the  Count  and  Countess 
wrote  to  entreat  him  to  return.  But  no  entreaties 
coidd  move  him  from  what  he  believed  to  be  the  course 
of  duty ;  and  it  was  not  until  M.  de  Berulle  and  Father 
Bence,  the  Superior  of  the  Oratory  at  Lyons,  interfered, 
that  he  could  be  prevailed  upon  to  retm-n  to  a  sphere  of 
duty  which  he  had  so  well  filled.  At  last,  in  Decem- 
ber of  the  same  year,  he  came  bade,  and  was  received 
by  all  as  an  angel  of  light.  To  quiet  the  mind  of  the 
Counters,  he  promised  to  remain  as  long*  as  she  lived  j 
a  promise  tiiat  he  faithfully  ])erformed. 

Vincent's  absence  from  Paris  was  but  of  short  dura- 
tion ;  only  five  months  intervened  between  his  depar- 
ture from  the  house  of  Gondi  and  his  return ;  and  yet 
in  tliat  time  a  work  was  done  which  will  be  remembered 
with  G'ratitude  when  others,  which  at  the  time  made 
more  noise,  will  have  })assed  away.  It  was  while  pnrish- 
])riest  at  Chatillon  that  he  conceived  the  idea  of  found- 
ing the  Confraternity  of  Charity;  and,  like  many  othrr 
great  ideas,  it  was  suggested  by  a  very  insigniiicaut 
incident. 


^Tra^^S 


■■]M 


■♦1 


.  .         ;,.EjJ 


2fl 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


Ono  day,  wlien  lie  was  just  entering'  tlie  pulpit  of 
the  cliureli  of  Cliritillon  to  pi-eacli  on  a  certain  festi- 
val, a  lady  of  v",uk  stopped  him,  and  bcg-g-ed  that  he 
would  recomnii.  i.d  to  the  charity  of  the  eong-regation  a 
certain  poor  family  in  the  neij.;hbourhood,  several  mem- 
()ers  of  whicii  had  fallen  ill,  and  were  in  extreme  dis- 
tress. The  Saiiit,  while  complying*  with  her  request, 
took  occasion  to  speak  of  the  duty  of  relieving-  the  poor, 
and  especially  those  who  were  sick.  God  was  pleased 
to  move  the  hearts  of  the  people,  and  the  result  was, 
that  many  of  the  congTeg'ation  visited  the  poor  family 
in  tlie  course  of  the  day,  and  carried  food  and  other 
gifts  for  their  relief.  Vincent  himself,  accompanied  by 
a  lew  persons,  went  to  see  the  sufferers  after  Ves})ers  j 
and  not  knowing'  that  others  had  done  the  same,  he  was 
astonished  to  meet  several  parties  g'oing*  on  the  same 
charitable  errand,  others  returning*  with  empty  baskets, 
and  some  resting-  with  their  loads  under  the  trees  from 
the  summfer  heat.  "  Why,"  said  he,  "•  these  g-ood 
people  are  like  sheep  which  have  no  shepberd.  This  is 
great  charity,  but  not  well  directed;  the  poor  people 
will  be  overloaded  with  provisions  for  a  few  dnys,  aid 
then  thev  will  be  in  as  much  distress  as  before."  The 
very  next  day  he  assembled  some  of  the  most  devout 
and  affluent  of  the  ladies  of  the  parish  for  the  purpose 
of  arrang-ing*  some  system  for  the  relief,  not  only  of  this 
one  family,  but  of  all  others  who  mig-ht  :-ecpiire  it,  and 
such  a  syotem  as  would  atfbrtl  them  relief  us  long'  as 
they  should  stand  in  need  of  it.  lie  s})ol<e  with  his 
usual  winning'  eloquence  upon  the  duty  thus  set  before 
them;  and  having'  induced  them  to  undertake  tlie 
A\  ork,  he  drew  up  for  their  g-uidance  certain  rules  which 
they  were  to  endeavour  to  follow,  and  which  were  after- 
"wards  to  be  sanctioned  and  confirmed  by  authority';  and 
thus  began  the  Confraternity  of  Ciiarity,  for  the  spiri- 
tual and  corporal  relief  of  the  sick  poor.  He  appointed 
certain  officers  among*  them,  and  received  their  report 
every  month.  This  is  the  account  Vincent  has  fre- 
quentW  given,  to  show  by  this  example  that  the  good 


lis 
nd 

as 
uis 
ore 
the 
ioli 
ter- 
and 
)iri- 


CH.  IV.]    VINCENT  IN  TllF,   FAMILY  OF  DE  GONDI.     27 

works  of  liis  congTegatioii  liave  g-rown  up,  as  it  were,  of 
themselves,  without  any  forethoiig-ht  or  designi  on  bis 
part,  and  that  the  work  was  of  God  and  not  of  man. 

Vincent  now  established  two  more  of  these  confra- 
ternities; one  at  Villepreux,  with  tlie  sanction  of  Car- 
dinal de  Retz,  the  uncle  of  his  pujiils,  and  at  that  time 
Bishop  0.  Paris,  and  another  at  Joig-ny.  The  fourth 
was  at  Montinirail ;  and  so  rapidly  did  the  desire  for 
this  institution  spread,  tliat  in  a  very  short  time  they 
were  to  be  Ibund  in  more  than  thirty  places. 

On  his  return  to  the  Joi"'nv  familv,  he  found  them 
much  in  need  of  his  liel}>.  Civil  war,  embittered  by  religi- 
ous dissensions,  distracted  the  land.  Fire  and  sword  were 
doing-  their  deadly  work;  smoking'  ruins  marked  the 
sites  of  God's  houses,  while  deserted  and  half-desolated 
villag'es  sliowed  too  plainly  where  hostile  armies  had 
passed.  What  wonder,  then,  if  the  poor  were  unin- 
tructed,  when  death  had  deprived  them  of  their  teachers! 
Famine  ^  talked  through  the  land,  and  laid  its  g-aunt  hand 
upon  those  whom  war  had  spared ;  and  then  came  the 
pestilence,  which  ever  follows  in  its  footsteps.  Thus  the 
labour  of  the  priest  increased  as  his  strength  diminished, 
and  his  assistants  died  around  hhn.  It  was  but  a  natural 
impulse  which  drove  men  into  the  great  cities,  for  there 
alone  were  to  be  found  food  and  protection ;  and  the 
necessary  consequence  of  this  was  the  terrible  neglect 
and  abandonment  of  those  who  remained  behind  in  the 
villages.  A  man  whom  Vincent  was  trying  to  deliver 
from  heresy  argued  from  this  state  of  things  against 
the  truth  of  Catholicism.  "  Sir,"  said  he,  "  you  have 
told  me  that  the  Church  of  Home  is  guided  by  the 
Holy  Spirit,  but  I  do  not  bel'ove  it ;  for  I  see,  on  one 
side,  poor  Catholics  in  the  country  abandoned  by  their 
pastors,  and  so  ignorant  of  their  duties  that  the  greater 
part  know  not  even  what  the  Christian  rehgion  is; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  I  find  the  cities  and  towns 
filled  with  idle  priests  and  monks,  wl>o  do  nothing;  and 
perhaps  there  are  in  Paris  ten  thousand  such,  who  leave 
these  poor  country-people  to  perish  in  such  disgraceful 


i'' 


^1 
'  h 


M 


I    \  ,11 


28 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


igTioraiice.  And  you  wish  to  persuade  me  that  the 
Holv  Spirit  directs  a  bodv  of  men  like  tliis — I  will  not 
believe  it."  There  was  g-reat  exag'g-eration  in  this  ter- 
rible picture;  controversy  never  understates  its  case; 
and  he  who  looked  with  unfriendly  eyes  upon  the 
Catholic  Church,  and  could  find  no  argument  to  justify 
his  schism  but  what  he  built  upon  the  faults  of  Catholics, 
would  natiu'ally  nm  into  excess  when  describing*  those 
faults.  But  allowing"  for  all  this,  and  deducting-  consi- 
der:^ biy  from  his  account,  there  still  remained  enoug-h 
to  cut  to  the  heart  one  so  jealous  of  God's  glory,  and  so 
tenderly  attached  to  the  poor  as  Vincent  de  Paid.  He 
felt  that  there  was  only  too  much  truth  in  the  state- 
ment ;  and  while,  in  reply  to  the  Huguenot,  he  showed 
that  things  were  not  as  bad  as  he  represented  them  to 
be,  and  that,  even  if  true,  the  conclusion  he  deduced 
from  them  was  false,  he  failed  not  to  take  the  matter 
seriously  to  heart,  and  resolved  to  devote  himself 
still  more  completely  to  remedy  such  evils.  Vincent 
told  him  he  was  ill-informed  as  to  what  he  said ;  that 
many  parishes  possessed  good  priests  and  good  curates; 
and  that  among  the  ecclesiastics  and  regulars,  who 
abounded  in  the  cities  and  towns,  there  were  many  who 
went  regnilarly  to  catechise  and  to  preach  in  the  country, 
while  some  were  continually  engaged  in  ])rayer  to  God 
and  in  singing  day  and  night  the  jn-aises  of  the  Lord  ; 
and  others,  again,  were  of  great  use  to  the  public  by 
the  books  they  wrote,  the  doctrines  they  taught,  and 
the  Sacraments  they  administered.  And  even  if  there 
were  some  who  did  nothing,  yet  that,  after  all,  they 
wei'c  but  individuals  liable  to  err,  and  that  they  did  not 
constitute  tlie  Church.  He  added,  that  when  he  said 
that  the  Church  was  guided  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  it  was 
to  be  understood  generally,  when  it  was  assem])lt'd  in 
councils,  and  in  particular  when  the  f.iithful  followed 
the  lig'ht  of  faith  and  the  rules  of  Christian  justice:  and 
as  for  those  who  turn  from  these  things,  they  resist  the 
Holy  Spirit;  and  although  they  may  be  members  of 
the  Church,  they  are  nevertheless  of  the  number  of 


CH.  IV.J   VINCENT  IN  THE  FAMILY  OF  DE  GONDl.     29 

those  who  live  after  the  fiesh,  and  who  slmll  die,  as  St. 
Paul  says. 

This  answer,  though  more  than  sufficient  to  meet 
the  ditiicultyj  failed  for  llie  time,  and  the  m;ui  remained 
in  his  schism.  But  wlien  V^incent  returned  next  year 
to  the  same  neig'hboiirhood,  with  the  Archdeacons  of 
Chartres  and  Beauvais,  and  other  priests  and  reg-uiurs, 
to  car?'v  on  the  work  ot  the  mission,  the  Huguenot 
came  to  the  religious  exercises.  He  saw  the  care  taken 
to  instruct  the  ig'norant,  and  was  impressed  with  the 
charity  which  bore  so  patiently  with  the  dulness  and 
slowness  of  these  poor  people.  He  watched  with  as- 
tonishment the  effect  upon  their  hearts  and  minds  of 
what  they  were  with  such  difficulty  taught.  Hard- 
ened sinners  converted  into  tearful  penitents,  men  who 
hnd  lived  without  God  cr^'ing*,  as  in  a])ostolic  times, 
"  What  must  we  do  to  be  saved  ?" — all  told,  too  plainly 
to  be  misunderstood,  that  God  was  in  the  mids'  of  His 
people,  and  that  those  who  preached  and  taiig-lit  with 
such  fruit  were  working'  in  His  power  and  migTit.  His 
heart  was  touched  j  he  bowed  beibre  the  Divine  \)ve- 
sence,  and  comiuii  Lu  Vijicent,  he  said,  "  I  see  iv  •  that 
the  Holy  Spirit  directs  the  Roman  Church,  wh..  a  thus 
cares  for  the  instruction  nr  \  salvation  of  these  ])oor 
villagers ;  I  am  ready  to  enter  the  Church  whenever  you 
are  willing'  to  receive  me."  Vincent  thereupon  asked 
him  if  he  had  any  remaining  difficulties.  "  iNo,"  said 
he;  "I  believe  all  that  you  have  told  me,  and  am 
ready  to  renounce  publicly  all  my  errors."  After  some 
further  inquiries,  to  test  his  knowledge  and  accei)tance 
of  the  truths  of  the  Catholic  faith,  Vincent  aj)pointed 
the  following  Sunday  for  his  reception,  and  directed 
him  to  attend  at  the  church  of  Marchais,  near  Montmi- 
rall,  where  the  mission  would  tlien  be  held,  to  receive 
absolution  from  his  l.\eresy.  He  attended  at  the  time 
appointed ;  and  at  the  close  of  the  morning  sermon  Vin- 
cent, having  informed  the  congregation  of  what  had  oc- 
currrd,  called  ihe  man  by  name,  and  demanded  of  hira 
before  them  all  if  he  still  persevered  in  his  wish  to 


11;- 


^")\ 


\i 


II 

'    1 
1 

j 

4 

I 

! 

'.' 

80 


ST.  VI N  ;ENT  DE  PAUL. 


abjure  his  heresy,  and  to  enter  into  the  bosom  of 
holy  Church ;  to  which  he  replied,  that  he  persflvered ; 
but  tliiit  one  dilficulty  Iiad  arisen  in  his  mind  with 
respect  to  a  rude  stone  imng-e  which  represented  the 
holy  Virg'in :  "  I  will  not  believe,"  said  he,  '*  that  there 
can  be  any  power  in  that  stone,"  pointing  to  the  imag'e 
ojjposite  to  him.  Vincent  replied,  that  the  Church  does 
not  teach  that  there  is  any  virtue  in  these  mutorial 
imagoes,  excej)t  wiien  God  pleases  to  communicate  it  to 
them,  as  He  can  do,  and  as  He  did  to  tlie  rod  of  Moses, 
which  worked  such  mir.;cles ;  and  this  any  of  the  chil- 
dren present  could  ex[)lain  to  him.  Whereupon  he 
called  one  of  tlie  best  instructed,  and  asked  him  what 
we  oiig'ht  to  1)elieve  res[)ecting'  holy  images.  The  cliild 
replied,  ''  That  it  is  g-ood  to  have  them,  and  to  render 
them  tlie  honour  which  is  their  due,  not  for  tlie  sake  of 
the  material  of  which  they  are  made,  but  because  they 
rejiresent  to  us  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  His  g'lorious 
Mother,  and  the  other  saints  of  paradise,  w'liO;  having* 
overcome  tliis  world,  exhort  us  by  their  silent  forms 
to  follovN  tliem  both  in  their  faith  and  in  their  g'ood 
works." 

Vincent  was  sntisfied  with  t'lis  answer,  as  was  the 
Huguenot.  But  the  Saint  expressed  his  dissatisfaction 
at  the  difficulty  thus  raised,  seeing-  that  the  man  liad 
been  fully  instructed  before  u[)on  tliis  as  upon  all  other 
points  of  the  Catholic  faitli ;  and  therefore,  not  consi- 
dering* him  in  the  due  disposition  to  make  his  abjura- 
tion, he  delayed  it  until  a  future  day.  In  due  time  he 
again  presented  himself,  renounced  his  heresy  publicly 
before  tlie  parishioners,  made  profession  of  the  Catholic 
faith,  and  persevered  to  the  end  of  his  life.  Vincent 
years  afterwards  related  the  circumstances  of  this  con- 
version to  his  congreg'ation,  to  encourage  them  in  the 
labours  of  the  mission,  conchiding  his  narrative  in  these 
word"  :  "  Oh,  what  a  happiness  it  is  to  us  missionaries, 

juove  that  the  Holy  Spirit  guides  the  Church  by 
working,  as  we  do,  for  the  instruction  and  sanctilication 
of  the  poor !" 


31 


CHAPTER  V 


VINCENT  AMONO  THE  U ALLEY-SLAVES. 


A  NEW  field  of  labour  now  opened  on  Vincent,  in  ano- 
tlier  part  of  the  country,  and  among*  anotlier  class  of 
people.  It  has  been  mentioned  that  the  Count  de  Joig-ny 
was  g'eneral  of  the  galleys.  Feeling*  the  responsibility 
of  his  office,  he  was  at  length  most  (mxious  that  Vin- 
cent should  see  to  the  souls  of  those  poor  creatures  who 
were  committed  to  his  chari'-e.  With  this  view,  he 
solicited  of  the  young  king*,  Louis  XITI.,  the  office  of 
royal  chaplain  to  the  galleys  for  Vincent.  The  king* 
g-ladly  made  the  appointment;  and  Vincent  at  once 
started  for  the  scene  of  his  new  labours,  that  he  miglit 
judge  for  himself  of  the  wants  of  the  prisoners,  lie 
reached  Marseilles  in  1G22.  A  Iriglitful  sight  met  his 
eyes  when  he  entered  the  prisons.  Bodily  suffering; 
was  bad  enough  in  such  a  place,  where  toil  seemed  in- 
cessant and  without  alleviation;  but  the  misery  and 
horror  of  the  scene  were  auOT'ented  tenfold  bv  the 
unabashed  vices  of  the  inmates.  The  noise  of  labour 
was  drowned  in  the  din  of  blasphemy,  and  the  foul  air 
of  the  unwholesome  prison  was  purity  itself  as  com- 
pared with  the  moral  pollution  that  prevailed.  It  wa.* 
a  terrible  spot,  where  spirituid  degradation  rendered 
physical  suffering*  only  the  more  repulsive,  and  the 
pimishment  with  which  crime  was  visited  did  but  bru- 
talise  what  it  should  have  reformed. 

Vincent  threw  himself  at  once  into  his  new  task, 
and  with  heroic  courage  met  and  conquered  what  would 
have  appalled  any  heart  less  stout  and  true  than  his 
own.  He  quailed  not  at  the  hideous  sig'ht,  nor  shrank 
from  the  awful  blasphemies  and  imprecations  which  met 
his  eai'S ;  for  he  saw  in  these  poor  sinners  those  only 


t\\>'fi 


1 


32 


BT.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


tor  whom  liis  Lord  luul  died.  And  yet  to  iinprosi 
their  hearts,  to  win  their  nttention  to  whiit  he  luul  to 
Sftv,  !?eenied  idinost  a  hopeless  task,  so  debused  uud 
Drutnliscd  were  they  hv  sutleriii}:;'  uud  sin.    With  sweet 


woi'ds,  nnd  •••entlo  winning*  ways,  he  went  aniongiit 
tliom.  lie  kissed  their  chains;  he  enihraecd  th"ni ; 
he  listened  patiently  to  tiieir  complaints;  he  used 
prayers  nnd  rernonstrancies  to  induce  thoM?  in  chaigfe 
to  deal  more  tendei-ly  with  them;  and  thus  in  various 
ways  he  showed  his  sympathy  and  ntt'-ction.  The  re- 
sult answered  his  hopes.  Those  who  had  stood  firm  in 
their  sins,  and  who  turned  a  deal'  ear  to  the  words  of 
rebuke,  could  not  hold  out  ag"ainst  so  novel  an  assault. 
Hnrd  words  and  rough  blows  they  could  bear  un- 
moved ;  but  tears  and  entreaties  fairly  overcame  them. 
Beneath  the  cold  unfeeling'  habit  of  sin  was  the  warm 
humiin  heart ;  and  Vincent's  love  could  ])enetrate  to 
its  innermost  recesses ;  his  g-entle  woi-ds  Ibund  an  echo 
within,  where  such  sounds  had  been  so  long*  unheard. 
The  snvag"e  men  learned  to  weep  like  children ;  and 
those  who  had  mocked  and  blasphemed  knelt  humbly 
at  prnyers  which  came  ii'om  the  lips  of  one  who  liad 
shown  how  tenderly  he  loved  them. 

In  a  short  time  he  worked  a  wonderful  chang-e  in 
the  g-alleys.  When  he  came,  he  could  compare  them 
only  to  hell,  such  were  the  sounds  and  sig-hts  which 
filled  them ;  when  ho  left  them,  they  were  what  ])risons 
should  ever  be,  [)laces  in  which  contrite  souls  did  pen- 
ance, and  in  which  a  loving"  and  gvntle  submission 
sanctified  the  punishment  which  the  law  imposed. 

After  a  time  Vincent  returned  to  Paris ;  but  only  to 
cnrry  on  more  completely  the  work  he  had  begun  at 
Marseilles.  He  visited  the  places  in  which  convicts 
were  confined  before  thev  were  sent  to  the  g-allevs,  and 
found  them,  if  possible,  still  worse  than  those  he  had 
just  quitted.  The  system  seems  to  have  been,  to  cast 
these  unhappy  creatures  into  the  Concierg-erie,  or  some 
other  prison,  and  to  leave  them  for  years  in  utter  ne- 
glect, devoured  by  vermin,  half-starved,  and  utterly 


CH.  v.]   VINCKNT  AMON-l  THE  OALLEY-9LAVE9.  33 

exlinnstpd  in  mind  nnd  body,  until  lit  Inst  they  wpro  spnt 
to  tlio  g-alleys.  Here  uccordin^ly  Vincent  I'ound  tlio 
woik  more  witiiin  liis  own  power.  At  ]\Iins«'illes  ho 
wiiH  only  the  royjil  cJiuphiin,  who  could  but  lulvisi^e  nnd 
sujij^'est  wiint  in  tlie  end  he  nuist  trust  to  otheis  to  ibl- 
low  up  or  to  neg-lect ;  in  Paris  1ig  could  curry  out 
whftt  no  devised.  With  tlie  nssistnnce  of  the  '••onernl 
of  the  g'ldleys,  he  iit  once  began  to  an)elionite  tlie  con- 
dition of  these  })oor  outcasts;  and  witii  this  view,  he 
took  and  fitted  up  ti  iiouse  in  the  Faubourg*  St.  Ilonore, 
near  the  church  of  St.  Roch,  into  which  the  |)iisoners 
were  removed ;  and  hero  they  were  kept  until  their  re- 
moval from  Paris. 

Vincent  now  g'ave  full  reins  to  his  charity ;  visiting* 
the  j)risoners  d.iily,  instructing-  and  preparing  them  for 
the  Sacraments.  Sometimes  he  remained  for  djivs  to- 
gether  in  the  midst  of  them,  especially  on  one  occasion, 
when  there  was  a  fear  of  some  contagion  prevailing. 
When,  at  times,  he  was  obliged  to  absent  himself, 
that  he  might  attend  to  other  matters,  he  placed  two 
of  his  friends  in  charge  over  them,  who  lived  in  the 
house  with  the  convicts,  and  said  Mass  for  them. 

About  this  time  (1023),  the  war  which  was  ragmg* 
made  it  advisable  to  remove  the  galleys  from  Mar- 
seilles to  Bourdeaux,  where  they  w^ouki  be  more  se- 
cure. Hither  Vincent  followed  them ;  and  that  the 
work  of  amelioration  and  reform  might  be  carried  out 
more  effectually,  he  associated  with  himself  several  re- 
ligious of  different  oi'ders,  who  divided  the  galleys 
among'  them,  and  visited  them  in  parties  of  two. 
Great  fruit  followed  this  mission ;  and  Vincent,  on  his 
return  to  Paris,  broug-ht  with  him  a  Turkish  convict 
whom  he  had  converted,  and  who  was  baptised  with 
the  royal  name  of  Louis,  the  Count  de  Joiguy  stand- 
ing; as  godfather. 


U      •       !    i 


■   i 


84 


CHAPTER  VI. 


VINCENT  AT    MA^ON. 


TiiK  new  route  he  Imd  to  travel  broug-lit  Vincent  into 
a  fresli  scene  for  the  exercise  of  his  zeiil  and  clinrity. 
His  road  hiy  tlirong'li  Macon ;  nnd  tliiit  city  was  about 
to  feel  the  influence  nnd  power  of  an  energy  which 
quailed  before  no  difficulty,  and  shrank  from  no  labour 
of  love.  Mugou  had  at  this  time  a  very  bad  name.  It 
was  infested  with  bei>'g*ars  of  the  lowest  and  vilest  de- 
scription; idle,  dissolute  crowds  swarmed  in  its  streets, 
blocked  up  its  church-doors,  and  terrified  alike;  the 
peaceable  inhabitants  and  tlie  passinj^'  traveller.  Misery 
enoug'h  was  there  throu'>'hout  the  len«>'th  and  bre;ulth 
of  France, — real,  inevitable  misery,  which  the  fierce  civil 
war  had  broug'ht  upon  the  innocent  nnd  good ;  and 
cities  like  Ma(;on,  with  tliciir  trade  destroyed,  and  thisir 
intercourse  with  other  j)laces  well  nigh  interrupted, 
must,  of  necessity,  have  suffered  severely.  It  was  as 
much  as  charity  could  do  to  meet  these  pressing  wants, 
anil  to  keep  from  actual  starvation  those  who,  through 
no  fault  of  their  own,  suffered  in  their  country's  afflic- 
tions. At  such  a  time  vice  and  idleness  became  far 
more  terrible  and  mischievous  than  usual ;  for  they  con- 
sumed what  virtue  pined  after,  and  diverted  from  their 
true  course  the  alms  which  were  then  most  needed. 
And  under  this  twofold  affliction  of  silent  misery  and 
clamorous  idleness  did  Maqon  labour:  its  virtuous 
poor  were  numerous,  but  its  dissolute  beggars  were 
still  more  so ;  and,  as  is  too  often  the  case,  the  iinpor 
tunity  of  the  latter  filled  the  public  ear,  while  then 
eager  hands  grasped  nearly  all  which  charity  could  be- 
stow. The  natiu-al  consequence  of  such  a  state  of  thing's 
followed :  people  g-rew  weary  of  relieving'  those  whose 
idleness  was  evident,  and  whose  vice  was  notoriouB ; 


M\ 


CII.  VI.J 


VINCRNT  AT  MA(;ON. 


86 


iind  so  relief  grew  less  niul  les-s,  nnd  men  lenrnt  to  shut 
their  heiirts  and  hmuls  njj;iiinst  those  who  hiid  so  little 
cliiiiu  ii|)i)u  their  bounty.  Thifji  the  noisy  throng*  {""i-ew 
fierce  and  riotous  ;  and  tear  b('stow<;d  what  justice  would 
have  withhehl.  Alas  for  the  silent  gTiet-sniitten  suf- 
ferers !  they  had  before  b(!en  ro)<bed  of  their  share  by 
these  cvil-uoers,  and  now  tlio  reaction  which  conies  of 
charity  abused  antl  ahns  perverted  told  with  full  force 
upon  them.  Hard  enough  had  they  found  it  to  lay 
open  their  g-riefs  to  g'eni.'rous  fellow-townsmen ;  but  how 
shall  they  now  face  those  who  have  grown  suspicious 
and  impatient/ 

Such  was  the  state  of  Ma(jou  when  Vincent  de  Paul 
arrived  there  on  his  wav  to  Marseilles.  Under  ordinary 
circumstances  he  would  Imvo  passed  on ;  for  \n'  had 
work  enoug'h  before  him,  and  why  should  he  tn!  ii  asiile 


or  ling-er  on  his  road? 


But  there  was  something-  in  the 


very  aspect  of  the  place  which  spoke  to  his  heart,  and 
told  him  that  he  had  a  labour  of  love  to  jjcrform  for 
which  time  must  bo  found.  Could  he  traverse  those 
narrow  streets  without  observing*  the  misery  which 
crowded  them? — or  could  ho  pass  throug'h  the  hideous 
swarm  of  the  idle  and  profane  which  beset  the  very 
doors  of  the  churches,  without  marking'  flie  clamorous 
oaths  and  fierce  bearing-  which  denumded  rather  than 
bei>'i»'ed  for  alms  ?  Here  was  misery  enoug'h  to  wring" 
any  heart;  so  we  need  not  wonder  that  it  })ierced  Vin- 
cent to  the  quick,  or  that  he  set  hhnself  at  once  r.  r-  e 
work  which  stood  thus  ready  to  his  hand.  But  one 
mig'ht  suppose  that  there  would  be  a  difficulty  in  his 
way, — which,  however,  Vincent  does  not  seem  to  have 
felt,  thoug'h  it  occurs  naturally  enoug'h  to  th«  mind  of 
the  reader, — and  that  is,  what  will  the  ecclesiastical  au- 
thorities of  the  city  say  to  tiiis  interference  on  the  })art 
of  a  strang-er  ?  A.nd  it  so  hap})ens  that  Ma(;on  had  not 
a  few  such  within  its  walls ;  indeed,  it  abounded  in 
liig'h  dig-nitaries,  as  the  chronicles  of  the  time  fail  not 
to  tell  us.  First,  there  was  Louis  Dinet,  the  bishop  j 
then,  no  less  than  two  reverend  cha]>ters ;  for  MaQon 


5  J     : 

ft 

I, 

U 

n 


W:i 


•  t 


^ 


, 


■  f  ?,  ■ 


86 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


had,  like  London  and  Dublin,  its  abbey-church  as  Avell 
as  its  catljodral;  and  tlie  canons  of  the  former  were, 
moreover,  of  hig'h  nobility ;  no  one  who  was  not  a  noble, 
ond  a  "  noble  of  four  generations,"  could  be  admitted 
into  its  august  body.  Now  what  would  all  these  high 
and  mig'hty  personages — bishop,  deans,  chai)ters,  and 
noble  canons — what  would  they  say  to  the  passing- 
strong-er  who  ling-ered  on  his  road  to  do  what  they  had 
left  undone,  and  to  set  their  city  to  rig'hts  ?  But  Vin- 
cent knew  how  to  overcome  greater  obstacles  than 
these.  In  truth,  he  had  a  wondrous  skill  in  winning* 
over  to  his  piu'pose  all  who  came  in  his  way;  and  these 
hig'h  dignitaries  were  soon  to  add  the  momentum  of 
their  influence  to  his  acti^'e  exertions,  and  to  bear  them 
and  him  triumphantly  to  success.  But  when  he  beg'an 
his  work  he  was  alone ;  and  little  encourag-ement  did  hu 
receive  as  he  went  from  door  to  door,  pointing*  out  the 
misery  and  degradation  of  the  poor  mendicants,  and 
soliciting-  alms  and  other  assistance  from  the  citizens. 
Some  people  laug-hed  in  his  face,  and  pointed  at  him  in 
mocker}'"  in  the  streets;  and  even  prudent  people  thought 
his  scheme  impracticable;  the  more  courteous  bowed 
him  out,  while  the  ruder  sort  shut  their  doors  in  his 
face. 

Yet  the  Saint  still  persevered.  Then  some  sus- 
picious peo})le  beg'an  to  see  a  political  })lot  in  the  move- 
ment, and  their  sagacity  discovered  in  Vincent  its 
seci-et  ag-ent;  and  so  men  g-rew  more  jealous  of  the  im- 
portunity of  this  meddling  stranger,  who  would  not  let 
Mn(^on  alone.  Thus  difficulties  seemed  to  increase ;  but 
the  heart  of  Vincent  felt  no  misgivings.  He  knew  well 
W' hat  he  was  about ;  his  experience  was  brought  to  bear 
upon  a  Avork  which  was  no  sudden  eflbrt  of  ill-directed 

f)hilant]iropy ;  and  he  knew',  moreover,  in  Whose  cause 
10  laboured.  He  had  his  reward.  By  degrees  men 
began  to  think  there  was  something  in  what  he  sug- 
gested; and  perhaps  they  felt  ashamed  of  their  own  in- 
difference in  the  presence  of  so  ardent  an  advocate. 
Thus  he  won  his  first  converts ;  a  little  money  came  into 


CH.  VI.] 


VINCENT  AT  MA^ON. 


37 


his  hand<,  and  a  few  citizens  joined  him  in  the  work  of 
retbrniation.  The  tide  turned  ;  pojmhir  opinion,  at  first 
so  adverse,  now  veered  round:  men  no  long-er  closed 
their  ears  and  hands  ag"ainst  his  appeals ;  all  saw  wis- 
dom, where  once  they  would  see  but  folly :  and  now,  to 
tlieir  credit  be  it  recorded,  they  strove  to  make  amends 
for  past  nog'lect  by  zealously  co-operating"  in  the  move- 
ment. All  came  over  to  Vincent's  side;  bishop,  canons, 
denn,  provost,  and  clergy  strove  with  the  mjig'istracy 
and  laity  (who  were  headed  by  fhe  lieutenant-general) 
in  a  generous  rivalry  who  shoidd  be  foremost  in  ridding* 
MaQon  of  its  ill  name,  and  in  converting  and  j)roviding; 
for  its  host  of  beggars. 

Vincent  was  now  in  his  element.  Witli  the  sanc- 
tion of  tlie  highest  authorities,  he  drew  up  a  scheme  to 
relieve  both  the  bodily  and  spiritual  wants  of  these 
poor  creatures,  and  to  destroy  the  vicious  system  of 
l)eggary  which  had  produced  such  miserable  fruits. 
It  would  be  difficult  to  believe  the  accounts  we  have 
received  of  the  gross  ignorance  of  this  degraded  class, 
did  it  come  to  us  upon  less  trustworthy  aiithoi-ity  than 
thiit  of  Father  Desmoulins,  tlie  Superior  of  tlie  Congre- 
gation of  the  Oratorv  at  Magon,  who  himself  took  an 
active  part  in  the  sclieme  which  Vincent  organised. 
It  requires  his  assurance  that  he  learnt  the  condition  of 
these  poor  creatures  not  from  report,  but  from  his  own 
observation,  to  credit  the  statement,  that  he  found 
people  upwards  of  sixty  years  of  age  who  frankly  ac- 
knowledged that  they  had  never  been  to  confession  in 
tlieir  lives.  "  When  we  spoke  to  them,"  he  addj,  '*'  of 
God,  of  tlie  Most  Holy  Trinity,  of  the  Nativity,  Pas- 
sion, nnd  Death  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  of  the  other  mys- 
teries, it  was  a  language  which  they  had  never  heard !" 
We  need  not  stay  to  dwell  upon  the  rules  wliich  Vin- 
cent gave  to  the  society  he  thus  founded.  Suffice  it  to 
sny,  that  the  measures  he  took  were  ])roi)ortioned  to  the 
magnitude  of  the  evil :  he  caused  a  list  to  be  cb-awn  up 
of  all  the  poor  who  desired  to  remain  in  the  city,  who 
Were  to   receive   alms  on  certain  days ;   but   if  they 


^'■m 


(;'■  i* 


'M. 


1  . 
)  'i. 


i 

i 

'■■  t 

V    ■ 

i 

^ 

i 

Ai: 

88 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


should  be  found  beg-g-ing-  in  the  church,  or  at  the  doors 
of  the  houses,  they  were  to  be  punislied  by  being'  g'iven 
some  hibour  to  do,  and  were  to  receive  no  alms.  Thoso 
who  were  not  residents  were  to  be  lodg-ed  for  a  nig'ht, 
and  sent  on  the  next  day  with  a  penny.  T)ie  poor 
wlio  were  ashamed  to  beg'  were  to  be  assisted  in  sick- 
ness, and  provided  with  nourishment  and  needful  reme- 
dies. 

Such  is  the  merest  outline  of  a  scheme  which 
.worked  so  well  in  Ma(;on.  It  was  for  Vincent  to  de- 
vise the  plan,  to  overcome  first  difSculties,  to  set  it  on 
foot,  and  tlien  to  leave  it  to  others.  He  g-ave  the  first 
alms,  and  then  went.  Yes,  Vincent  had  done  his 
work.  Three  weeks  had  he  spent  in  ]\ragon,  and  had 
achieved  in  that  short  time  what  neither  clerg'y  nor 
laity  had  dreamed  of  doing*.  He  had  swept  the  city 
clear  of  its  throng'  of  idle  beg'g'ars,  not  by  a  stern  law, 
whicli  drives  into  obscure  corners  the  misery  it  seeks 
not  to  relieve  but  only  hates  to  look  upon,  but  by  pro- 
viding" those  who  needed  them  with  food  and  clothing*, 
as  well  as  with  the  eternal  Food  which  ])erisheth  not. 
He  had  recalled  the  inhabitants,  both  hig'h  and  low, 
to  a  sense  of  their  duties  ;  and  if  it  is  to  their  disg-iico 
that  such  want  and  ignorance  should  have  been  in  a 
city  so  larg'ely  provided  with  clergy  and  magistrates, 
let  it  also  be  remembered  to  their  honour  that  they  did 
not  hedge  themselves  up  in  their  pride  and  reject  the 
rebuke  which  a  stranger's  zeal  must  have  given  them  ; 
but  that  they  frankly  confessed  their  fault  in  the  most 
effectual  manner,  by  joining  him  zealously  in  his  })lans 
of  amelioration,  and  by  continuing*  the  good  work 
which  he  had  begun  ii   longst  them. 

Vincent  left  them ;  but  how  ?  Like  one  whose 
work  had  failed,  and  who  fled  in  shame  from  the  scene 
of  his  discomfiture !  He  learnt  that  the  people  had 
determined  to  send  him  away  in  triumph.  Tiiey  had 
laughed  at  his  zeal  and  mocked  at  his  scheme  but 
three  weeks  before ;  and  now  they  are  in  tears  at  the 
thought  of  his  departure.     If  he  must  g-o,  it  shall  bs 


CH.  VI.] 


VINCENT  AT  MA^ON. 


89 


lliose 
Icene 
had 
had 
hut 
the 
i\  ba 


witli  all  the  city  in  his  company.    The  hig-h  dignitaries, 
who  had  looked  so  coldly  upon  the  meddling*  sstninger, 
are  to  do  honour  to  his  farewell ;  and  surely  the  citi- 
zens, who  have  profited  by  his  zeal,  and  his  beloved 
poor,  who  recog-nise  in  him  a  spiritual  lather,  and  "who 
ow'e  him  more  than  tongue  can  tell,  "will  g-race  his, tri- 
umph, and  uslicr  on  his  road  to  Marseilles  the  lowly 
and  g-entle-hearted  prie.-t.     All  is  arranged ;  but  Vin- 
cent spoils  every  thing*.     For  while  they  are  making* 
ready,  and,  doubtless,  settling*  the  knotty  question  of 
precedence  among*  the  numerous  dig'uitaries,  he  rpuetly 
sceids  away,  and  is  far  from  JMac^on  ere  the  arrange- 
ments are  completed.     The  Oratorians,  "with  whom  he 
stayed,  alone  know^  of  his  departure.     He  had  taken  an 
aft'ectionate  farewell  of  them  the  night  before,  and  did 
not  expect  to  see  them  agaifi ;  but  their  love  would  not 
suffer  him  to  depart  without  one  last  word  of  g-reeting* : 
they  entered  his  chamber  in  the  early  morning*,  and, 
while  bidding*  him  adieu,  they  marked,  what  their  sud- 
den entry  had  not  given  him  time  to  conceal,  that  the 
mattrass  was  not  in  its  ])lace,  and  that  he  had  slept 
upon  the  bare  boards.     In  his  confusion  he  trietl  to 
cover  the  mortification  by  some  excuse ;  but  the  g*ood 
fathers  knew  how  to  appreciate  the   deeds  of  saints, 
and  bowed  in  loving*  reverence  before  the  servant  of  the 
Lord. 


-1  i\ 


m 


1      ''11 


^ 


\     t 


t 


11' 


h 


40 


CHAPTER  Vn. 


VINCENT  AND  ST.  JANE  FRANCKS  DE  CIIANTAL. 


T  w'.is  in  the  year  1023  that  Vincent  accepted  the 
oilice  of  spii'itual  director  to  the  nuns  of  tlie  Order  of 
the  Visitation  of  St.  Mary  at  Paris.  This  order  had 
been  foun(h3d  some  years  previously  l)y  tlie  g'reat 
IJishop  of  Geneva,  St.  Francis  de  Sales,  who,  about  this 
time,  sent  MadaTue  de  Chantal  to  establish  a  house  at 
Pnris.  Humanly  speaking*,  the  success  of  the  work 
depended  chiefly  upon  the  wisdom,  prudfmce,  and  dis- 
cretion of  the  spiritual  direct(»r  :  this  no  one  undei'stood 
better  than  tliat  g-reat  disceraer  of  spirits  St.  Francis ; 
and  therefore  we  may  eisily  imagine  what  care  he 
would  take  to  select  the  right  person  for  so  imj)ortant 
an  office.  There  were  many  in  Paris  at  this  time  ot 
high  reputation  for  learning,  wisdom,  and  sanctity ; 
doctors  of  the  Sorhonne,  and  of  the  great  university ; 
parish-priests  of  name,  and  others  who  gave  themselves 
wjiollv  to  the  direction  of  souls  ;  and  yet  St.  Francis 
passed  over  all  these,  and  iixed  his  attention  upon  Vin- 
cent dc  Paul.  Knowing  well  the  humility  of  the  man, 
St.  Francis  overruled  by  anticipation  his  refusal  of  the 
office,  by  obtnining  a  positive  command  from  Cardinal 
de  Retz,  the  Bishop  of  Paris. 

Our  Saint,  a;  had  heen  foreseen,  shrank  in  dismay 
from  the  task  assigned  him.  Labour  in  the  Lord's 
vineyard  was  what  he  sought  and  loved.  When  the 
Itoor  needed  him,  he  went  with  cheerful  and  ready 
heai't ;  for  his  home  was  among  them,  and  his  great 
humility  found  its  safest  shelter  in  their  lowly  dwell- 
ings. Here,  however,  was  another  task,  a  difi'eient 
kind  of  work,  and  one  to  which  he  thought  himself 
unequal.    But  what  could  he  do?   St.  Francis  de  Sales 


CII.  VII.]    VINCENT  AND  ST.  J.  F.  DE  CIIANTAL.  41 

nsked  for  him  ;  St.  Jane  de  Chantal  needed  liis  spiritual 
g'iii(hnce;  and  lus  ecclesiastical  superioi',  tlie  (Jardinal 
de  Retz,  insisted  upon  a  Saint  complying-  witli  what 
Saints  required.  There  is  a  ])eculiar  interest  in  the 
g'reat  names  thus  broiig-ht  together  :  no  less  than  three 
canonised  Faints  uniting  in  one  particidar  work,  and  ar- 
ranging* tog-ether  the  foundation  of  a  religious  house. 
Seldom  is  it  that  God  pours  so  bountifully  upon  one 
spot  His  choicest  gifts,  or  brings  together  on  earth  those 
who  in  so  supernatural  a  degree  are  fulfilling  His  will. 
It  was,  indeed,  a  blessing  for  Paris  to  hold  such  trea- 
sures within  its  walls,  while  religious  and  civil  dissen- 
sion was  preying-  upon  the  life  of  the  nation.  Vincent 
bowed  to  the  decision  of  his  Bishop ;  and  when  he  had 
once  acee])ted  the  office  of  director  to  this  new  house, 
lie  threw  himself  with  his  usual  zeal  and  energ}''  into 
the  good  work.  As  might  be  expected,  the  new  order 
quickly  took  root,  and  flourished  under  such  rulers; 
the  first  house  speedily  gave  birth  to  a  second ;  and 
then  a  third  g-rew  up ;  and  in  a  few  years  a  fourth  ap- 
peared ;  and  all  these  in  Paris,  and  all  under  the  di- 
rection of  Vincent  de  Paul.  For  thirty-eight  years  we 
find  him  continuing  the  same  good  offices,  and  with 
what  fruit  tlie  history  of  the  order  plainly  shows.  St. 
Francis  de  Sales  lived  not  long  to  carry  on  the  work 
which  his  piety  and  zeal  had  founded  j  but  he  had  the 
consolation  of  leaving*  it  in  the  hands  of  Vincent,  and 
well  did  he  know  the  value  of  him  to  whom  he  had 
intrusted  an  institution  so  dear  to  his  heart.  It  was 
not  mere  report,  or  the  languag';  of  others,  u[)on  which 
the  mutual  knowledy-e  and  esteem  these  two  Saints  had 
of  each  other  were  founded.  They  had  met  in  Paris, 
and  had  there  formed  a  close  intimacy ;  .aid  the  tes- 
timony the  Bishop  of  Geneva,  g-ave  of  his  friend  was 
this :  "  I  never  knew  a  man  more  wise  or  more  holy 
than  he."  And  as  with  St.  Francis  de  Sales,  so  was  it 
witii  the  venerable  mother  who,  under  his  direction, 
presided  over  the  order.  Madame  de  Ohantal  recognised 
at  once  in  Vincent  one  who  would  supply  the  place  of 


•1    's 


1     ■' 


.i'  .1  n 


49 


ST.  VINCENT  DK  PAUL. 


St.  Francis,  and  he  a  fatlier  to  lier  young  foundation. 
She  placed  herself  in  his  liands^  and  for  the  twenty 
years  whicli  she  lived  after  his  iij^pointinrnt  slje  soug-ht 
no  other  director  and  looked  fov  no  other  g-uide.  Even 
Avhen  the  re([uirements  of  new  J»ouses  called  her  away 
from  Paris  lor  a  time,  she  failed  not  to  commui./'ate 
with  her  director  by  letter;  and  i^everal  of  these  touch- 
ing- memorials  of  her  fervent  di  votion  and  profound 
humijity  are  still  preserved.  The  ibllowing'  is  one  of 
them  . 

"  So  you  are  eng'ag-ed  to  work,  my  very  defiv  fatiier, 
in  tlio  ]>',  vince  of  Lyons;  ;ind  thus  we  are  deprived  of 
the  !-ii"ht  of  vol',  i'w  a  lon'r  time.  But  to  what  (rod 
does  we  c:m  say  •^•rnJiJng',  l.tiit  bless  liis  name  for  all 
things,  as  1  do,  Liy  .'],":■  est  falii^'r,  especially  for  the 
liherty  tliat  vour  charitv  h:;y  G'iven  me  of  continuinii"  to 
conHde  in  yau,  tmd  of  houbhug'  you  with  my  affairs; 
and  tliis  I  sl::;]i  do  tis  frankly  as  possible.  I  have  sjoent 
four  days  m  the  st)iritual  exercises;  I  could  not  give 
more  time,  because  of  the  manv  matters  which  forced 
themselves  itj-'on  me.  I  have  seen  the  need  which  I 
have  of  cultivating'  humility  and  self-sacrifice  lor  my 
iinighbour^ — virtues  which  1  took  in  hand  last  year,  and 
which  our  Lord  has  g-iven  me  grace  to  practise  a  little; 
but  lie  it  is  who  lias  done  all,  and  wlio  will  yet  do  this, 
if  it  sitiill  please  Him,  since  He  gives  me  so  many  op- 
portunities. As  to  my  state,  I  believe  that  I  am  simply 
waiting-  for  what  it  may  please  God  to  do  with  me;  I 
have  neither  desires  nor  intentions  ;  nothing-  iniiuences 
me  ])ut  the  wish  to  leave  God  to  act;  and  however 
little  r  may  see  my  M-ay,  this  is  at  the  bottom  of  mv 
soul :  T  have  neither  view  nor  opinion  as  tO  the  fu- 
ture; but  I  do  at  the  |<resent  hour  what  seems  neces- 
sary to  be  done,  without  thinking  of  what  is  more  dis- 
tant Oftentimes  all  is  in  rebellion  in  the  weaker  part, 
which  causes  me  much  distress ;  but  then  I  know  that 
*  in  patience  I  shall  possess  my  soul.'     M 


oreover 


I 


am 


wearied  to  excess  in  my  charge ;  for  my  s})irit  greatly 
hatfis  action,  and  necessit ;  'orcing  me  thereto,  my  bnd; 


p- 
"I 

•es 
fver 


es- 

,is- 

iiit, 

lat 

am 

itlv 


en.  VII.J     VINCENT  AND  ST.  J.  P.  DE  CHANTAL.         43 

and  mind  are  exhausted;  on  tlie  other  liand,  my  ima- 
g'inntion  troubles  me  g'reatly  in  all  my  exercises,  for 
wliicli  1  feel  g-reat  repug-nance.  Our  Lord  thus  per- 
jiiits  me  to  have  many  external  difficulties,  to  the  end 
v'rit  nothing'  in  this  life  may  please  me,  except  the  will 
-  God  alone,  to  which  lie  wishes  mine  to  be  con- 
iormed.  May  He  have  mercy  upon  me !  I  beg*  you 
to  pray  earnestly  for  me ;  and  I  will  not  fail  to  pray,  as 
[  do  with  all  my  heart,  that  He  will  strengthen  you 
i(  r  the  charg-e  which  He  has  g"iven  you." 

We  have  recorded,  under  Vincent's  own  hand,  the 
opinion  which  he  entertained  e*^"  this  holy  woman  j 
wherein,  among^  other  virtues  wliioli  characterised  her, 
he  especially  mentions,  that  huniility,  mortification, 
obedience,  zeal  for  the  sanctiiication  of  her  holy  order 
and  for  the  salvation  of  the  souls  of  the  [)oor,  showed 
themselves  in  her  in  a  supreme  deg"ree.  "  In  a  word," 
he  adds,  "  I  never  perceived  any  imperfection  in  her; 
but  a  continual  exercise  of  all  sorts  of  virtues."  He 
concludes  the  formal  document  we  have  just  quoted  by 
the  following'  extraordinary  relation:  "  I  have  no  doubt 
that  God  will  one  day  manifest  her  sanctity,  as  1  be- 
lieve has  been  already  done  in  several  j)arts  of  this 
king'dom  and  in  different  ways,  of  which  the  following 
is  one  which  happened  to  a  person  wcn-thy  of  ti-ust,  and 
who,  I  am  sure,  would  rather  die  than  tell  a  falsehood. 
This  person  had  received  intellig-^nce  that  the  end  of 
this  holy  woman  was  approaching- ;  thereupon  he  knelt 
down  to  priiy  ibr  her,  anci  the  iir.>t  thought  which  came 
into  his  mind  was  to  make  an  act  of  contrition  for  the 
sins  which  she  had  committed,  'and  which  she  com- 
monly committed;  and  immediately  afterwards  there 
appear(!d  to  him  a  small  globe,  like  fire,  whicii  rose 
from  the  earth  and  advanced  to  meet  an(jther  larger 
and  more  brilliun  oib;  ''ie  t.:o  united,  anil  then  rose 
still  higher  to  /iter  and  condjiae  themselves  with  a 
third  .wfinit'  ''.  larg-er  and  nn  ;g  himinous  tlian  the 
others :  and  it  was  toal  him  interiorly  hat  the  first 
g-lobe  was  the  soul  of  Madame  de  Chantaij  the  second, 


I 


'  > 


1^ 


!■;! .« 


^i 


I 


•iS 


^*'V 


44 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


that  of  St.  Francis  cle  Sales ;  and  tlie  tliird,  the  Divino 
Essfince ;  and  that  the  soul  of  tlie  first  was  united  to 
that  of  the  second,  and  both  to  God.  Ag-ain,  the  same 
person,  who  was  a  ])riest,  said  Mass  for  Madame  de 
Chantal  imnu'diately  after  he  had  heard  the  news  of 
her  happy  dejjarture;  and  being'  at  the  second  me- 
mento, where  one  prays  for  the  dead,  he  thoug-ht  that 
it  woidd  be  well  to  pray  for  her,  as,  perhaps,  she  mig-ht 
be  in  j)nrg-atory  on  account  of  some  words  which  siie 
had  spoken  at  a  certain  time,  and  which  seemed  to 
trench  upon  venial  sin:  at  that  very  moment,  he  saw 
once  more  the  same  vision,  the  same  globes,  and  the 
same  union ;  and  there  I'emained  in  his  mind  an  inte- 
rior conviction  that  her  soul  was  blessed,  and  luid  no 
need  of  prayers;  and  this  has  remained  so  imprinted 
on  tlie  mind  of  the  priest,  that  he  seems  to  see  her  in 
this  state  whenever  he  thinks  of  her.  What  may  raise 
a  doubt  respecting"  this  vision  is,  that  this  person  has  so 
high  an  opinion  of  the  sanctity  of  this  blessed  soul,  that 
he  never  reads  her  letters  without  tears,  throug'h  the 
conviction  which  he  has  tliat  God  inspired  her  with 
what  they  contain ;  and  this  vision  mig-ht  consequently 
be  tlie  effect  of  his  imagination.  But  what  makes  one 
think  that  it  is  a  true  vision  is  this, — that  he  is  not 
sul)ject  to  sucli  thing's,  and  never  had  but  this  one. 
In  faith  of  which  I 
ment." 

Tlie  priest  thus  spoken  of  was  Vincent  himself.  To 
him  the  vision  was  vouchsafed,  and  upon  the  J'act  to 
which  it  testified  the  Church  has  since  set  her  seal  by  the 
canonisation  of  Madame  de  Chantal.  That  mind  must 
indeed  be  sceptical  which  can  doubt  the  reality  of  this 
vision.  Vincent  was  not  the  person  to  be  misled  by  his 
imagination ;  one  possessing"  a  mind  so  thoroug-hly  })rac- 
tical  as  his,  so  well  vei-sed  in  tlie  direction  of  reiig'ious, 
and  therefore  so  alive  to  the  presence  of  mental  delu- 
sions and  so  skilled  in  detecting"  them,  was  noi  likely 
to  be  the  victim  of  f.incy ;  while  the  calm  reasoning 
tone  in  which  the  narrative  is  told  is  in  itself  a  pretty 


have  signed  and  sealed  this  docu- 


iiiii 


CH.  VII.]    VINCENT  AND  ST.  J.  P.  DE  CHANTAL.         45 

sure  token  of  the  state  of  mind  in  which  the  vision  was 
beheld.  We  may  safely  conclude  that  God  was  pleased 
thus  to  comfoit  the  mind  of  His  faithful  servant  with 
a  revelation  of  the  g'lory  into  which  that  blessed  soul 
had  entered  which  he  liad  giiided  so  well.  Nor  was 
the  vision  in  respect  to  St.  Francis  de  Sales  without  its 
especial  consolation  to  Vincent.  We  have  seen  how 
these  three  Saints  combined  in  bring-ing"  to  Paris  the 
new  Order  of  the  Visitation ;  and  now  two  of  them  had 
passed  aw.iy.  Vincent  alone  was  left ;  natural,  there- 
fore, was  it  that  his  tender  heart  should  yearn  after 
those  who  had  thus  worked  with  him  in  the  vineyard 
of  the  Lord,  and  that  his  g'reat  humility  should  shrink 
from  the  responsibility  which  they  had  hitherto  shared 
with  him.  The  gTacious  Master  whom  he  served  would 
not  leave  him  without  comfort,  but  chose  to  make  this 
special  revelation  in  order  to  show  him  the  reward  his 
fi-iends  had  obtained,  and  to  remind  him  that  they  were 
now  his  advocates  in  heaven,  and  would  one  day  share 
with  him  the  crown  which  this  good  work  had  g;ained. 


^:  .1  ■ 


M 


.0 

to 

le 
ist 
lis 
lis 
,c- 

IS, 

u- 


•1  m 


,  i 
^1    I 


•1 


m 


CHAPTlilt   VIII. 


TUB  COUNTESS  DK  JOIONY  AND  TnK  NKW  ORDER. 

It  is  some  time  since  we  have  spoken  of  the  Countess 
tie  Joig-ny ;  hut  we  must  now  return  to  1..  she  has 

a  gTeat  work  in  Imnd,  in  which  Vincent  phiys  a  most 
important  pnrt.     ISo  now  work,  indeed,  is  it,  nor  one 
which  com"  :  hefore  us  for  tlie  lirst  time;  but  it  is  tlte 
fuliilment  cf  a  long-cherisli»'d  desire,  and  the  realisation 
of  a  scheme  very  dear  to  her  iu'art.     We  have  seen  tlie 
many  elibrts  slie  made,  in  1(517,  to  induce  some  reli- 
j^'ious  order  to  carry  on  tlie  missions  which  Vincent  at 
that  time  hi'g-an  tirnoii":''  the  peasantry  upon  her  estates; 
liow  she  had  laid  HsicU;  a  larjie  sum  of  money,  not  less 
than  eig'ht  hundred  pounds,  to  provide  for  the  expenses 
ot  such  a  mission ;  and  how  slie  had  applied  to  both  the 
Jesuits  and  the  Oratorians  to  undertake  the  task,  and 
applied  in  vain,  because  God  had  destined  this  particular 
duty  i'oi  Vincent  de  Paid.     1'ime  had  passed  on,  and 
year  after  year  the  good  Countess  renewed  the  g"ift  in 
her  will  to  whomsoever  God  niig'ht  appoint  to  the  mis- 
sion ;  for  she  seems  to  have  had  no  misgiving's  as  to  its 
ultimate  ado|)tion,  and  had  learnt  to  ^^■ait  the  time  of 
her  Divine  Master.      Viid  now,  after  ■•■ven  Ion,'*'  years, 
she  attem})ts  again  to  carry  iier  \)]nn   ato  efiect;  if  not 
in  the  way  she  had  at  first  intcndcit,  at  least  in  a  modi- 
fied form.     If  no  existiTi<j    >rder  would  undertake  the 
woi'k,  sUe  tjioiight  that  some  provision  might  be  made 
to  continue  it  in  the  v/ay  it  had  been  begun.     She  saw 
that  several  ecclesiastics  were  in  tl'e  L. ''>fc  of  assisting" 
Vincent  in  the  missions  he  gave ;  :     I  she  hoped,  that  if  a 
house  were  sot  apart  in  Paris  for  t)        e  (    those  who  thus 
worked  with  him,  some  v)f  them  migiit  p-'rinanently  live 
th:    '.  and  receive  from  time  to  time  others  who  were 
willing"  to  devote  themselves  to  the  same  duty.     By 


V 


CH.  VIII.]         THE  COUNTESS  DE  JOIGNY. 


47 


of 

[ears, 

if  not 

lodi- 

tlie 
jiiade 

saw 
islinf? 
\tita 

thus 
ly  live 

were 


By 


tliese  monns  tlm  g'ood  work  would  be  perpetuated,  and 
her  (U'sij^ii  enrried  out.  Befoi-e  taking'  any  steps  in 
the  matter,  she  considted  her  luisband;  aud  he  not  only 
approved  of  ]ierphin,])iit  insisted  vi|)ori  heeoniin'j;-  a  joint 
foun(hM'  witli  her;  and  to  comph'te  the  work,  they  went 
to«i'eth(;r  to  the  count's  ))rotlier,  tlie  Areldjisliop  ol  Paris. 
John  PVaneis  de  Gondi  had  lately  sncceeded  his  elder 
brother,  the  Cardinal  de  lletz,  in  the  };oveinnient  of  the 
diocese  of  Paris,  which  had  inider  his  rule  been  raised 
into  an  archbishopric.  Like  the  rest  of  his  ilhistrions 
house,  he  was  well  accpiiiinted  with  the  virtne  and  zeal 
of  his  sister-in-law;  and  when  she  laid  her  scheme  bo- 
fore  him,  he  not  only  ^ave  it  liis  cordial  ai)probati()n, 
but  undertook  to  provide  the  institution  with  a  fitting" 
habitation ;  and  j^ave  at  once  the  Colleg-e  des  Bons 
Eufars  I'or  this  piir})Ose.  The  next  thin<j;-  to  be  done 
to  carry  into  eflt  et  the  noble  design,  was  to  appoint  a 
sujjerior  ecpial  to  the  work;  and  of  who,  i  Init  \  incent 
could  thev  think  (*     Here  was  their  only  diilicultv  ;  for 

*■'  .  .    .  ^  .    " 

tl.''Y  knew  thiit  l.i'^  humility  wiis  as  gi-eat  as  his  other 
virtu  s  {*nd  tliey  ibrosaw  how  he  would  shrink  from 
takin  'his  resp<  isible  office  upon  him.  So  they  deter- 
mined mat  they  .should  all  three — archbishop,  count,  and 
comites  --ee  him,  and  cut  short  all  the  excuses  which  ho 
mig'ht  urg-e.  This  they  did,  and  the  lowly  servant  of 
God  bowed  befn  the  authority  of  those  who  ruled  as 
much  by  aifectii n  as  by  power;  the  priest  obeyed  his 
ecclesiastical  superior,  the  chaplain  his  earthly  ])!itrons, 
and  the  man  yielded  to  the  wishes  of  those  wl.oni  he  ' 
had  long"  learned  to  love  for  their  charity,  and  to  vene- 
rate for  their  self-denial.  He  consented  to  the  three 
thing's  which  they  required  of  him  :  first,  tlitit  he  shoidd 
become  sujierior  of  the  colleg-e,  and  take  upon  him  the 
direction  of  the  priests  who  migiit  live  there  with  him, 
as  well  as  the  g-eneral  superintendence  of  the  missions ; 
next,  that  he  should,  in  the  name  of  these  in-iests,  accept 
the  money  which  was  to  endow  the  house;  and  thirdly 
that  he  should  appoint  tiiose  whom  he  might  think 
fitted  and  disposed  for  such  a  W'ork.     The  affair  being 


I  !. 


11  ii 


UrI 


48 


ST.  VINCENT  DR  PAUL. 


thus  nn'unpfpd,  no  tirnn  was  lost  in  carrvinf;'  it  into 
rlVcct ;  nnti  in  a  few  days,  on  the  1st  ol' Miircli  10:24, 
tho  Airlihisliop  drrnv  up  tlio  jmtont  for  tlio  lM'!ids]u|)  of 
thfi  Oollcfi^e  d(>s  lions  Eufans.  On  tho  17tli  of  April 
the  Count  nnd  Countess  do  Joi}^ny  mtido  ovr«r  tho 
money  for  tho  ondowuient  of  the  new  institution,  in  a 
deed  which  we  must  quote  at  some  Jenytli,  because  it 
so  well  illustrates  tlie  Wv^'h  ))rincii)les  which  actuated 
them,  and  t!ie  end  they  jn'opo  ed  to  tliomselves. 

Th(?  document  beg'ins  by  dcjclarinj^',  first,  "  that  God 
having-  inspired  them  for  some  years  past  with  the  de- 
sire of  doin|4-  Ilim  honour,  as  well  on  their  own  estates 
as  elsewhin-e,  they  have  considered  that,  since  it  has 
pleased  His  Divine  Majesty  to  provide  in  His  infinite 
mercy  for  the  spiritual  necessities  of  cities,  by  tho  num- 
ber of  holy  doctors  and  virtuous  religious  wiio  preach 
and  catechise  therein,  and  who  preserve  in  them  a  s[)irit 
ofdevotion,  there  remain  only  th(^  poor  country-people  to 
be  cared  for.  They  think  tliat  this  can  be  remedied  by 
a  pious  association  of  certain  ecclesiastics  ol'  known  or- 
thodoxy, piety,  and  fitness,  who  are  willing-  to  renounce 
preferment  in  cities,  as  well  as  all  appointments  and 
dig'nities  in  the  Church,  to  apply  themselves,  under  the 
superintendence  of  the  Bishops,  sim[)ly  and  entirely  to 
the  salvation  of  these  poor  peo))le ;  to  pass  from  villag^e 
to  village  at  the  expense  of  their  common  purse,  to 

E reach,  instruct,  exhort,  and  catechise  the  poor,  and  to 
ring"  tliem  to  a  general  confession,  without  taking 
from  them  any  payment  or  offering  whatever,  to  the 
end  that  they  may  distribute  without  cliarge  the  gifts 
they  have  gratuitously  received  from  the  hand  of  (^od. 
To  make  provision  for  this  end,  the  said  count  and 
countess,  in  thanksg'iving  for  the  benefits  and  graces 
which  they  have  received,  and  still  dady  receive,  from 
the  same  Divine  Majesty,  to  assist  in  the  salvation  of 
poor  souls,  which  God  so  ardently  desires,  to  honour 
the  mysteries  of  the  Incarnation,  Life,  and  Death  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  out  of  love  for  His  Most  Holy 
Mother,  and,  moreover,  to  strive  to  obtain  grace  to  live 


■',#  . 


en.  VI TI.]         THE  COTJNTESf»  DE  JOIONY. 


49 


voll  the  I'osf.  of  tli(»ir  diiySf  that  tlioy  mny  como  with 
tlicir' f'iiinily  to  fttermil  ^loiy, — to  this  end  tlio  snid 
count  iind  counti'ss  hnvo  •••ivcn  as  ahns  the  sum  ot't'oity 
tlioiisnnd  hvrcs  (L'OOO/.),  wliicli  they  have  dclivcreil  in 
cnsli  into  th*,  hands  of  M.  Vincent  (h*  Paul,  prirst  of 
tlie  diocese  of  Accjs,  for  the  folhming'  j)ur|)osos  :  that  is 
to  say,  t\n'.  said  count  and  countess  liave  ^iven  and  do 
^ive  to  the  said  Sieur  do  Paul  the  ])o\ver  ofehictino; 
and  clioosin*^'  witinn  a  year  such  a  nunilier  of  eccle- 
siastics as  the  revenue  of  the  present  en(h)wnient  cm 
sup])ort,  whose  orthodoxy,  j)iety,  good  morals,  and  in- 
tegrity of  life  are  known  to  him,  to  hd)our  in  the  said 
work  under  his  direction  as  long-  a;'  he  may  live ;  and 
this  is  the  exi)ress  will  and  intention  of  tla^  said  count 
and  countess,  both  on  account  of  the  confidence  which 
tlie}'  have  in  his  manag-ement,  and  from  th(»  experience 
they  have  had  of  the  good  effected  in  the  said  missi(?ns, 
in  which  God  g'ave  him  an  esi)ecial  hlessing*.  lint  not- 
withstanding* this  divection,  the  said  count  and  coimtess 
intend  that  the  said  Sieur  de  Paul  shall  make  his  con- 
tinual and  actual  residence  in  their  house,  tliat  he  may 
con^^inue  to  them  and  to  their  family  the  spiritual  assist- 
ance which  he  has  rendered  them  tor  so  many  years. 

*'  The  said  ecclesiastics,  and  others  who  desire  or 
who  shall  hereaftm-  desire,  to  give  themselves  to  this 
g'ood  work,  shall  devote  themselve'"^  entirely  to  the  care 
of  the  said  poor  country-people:  and  to  this  end  they 
shall  bind  themselves  neither  to  preach  nor  administer 
any  sacrament  in  cities  which  are  the  seats  of  bishops, 
archbishops,  or  of  conrts  of  justice,  except  in  cases  of 
extreme  necessity.  The  said  ecclesiastics  shall  live  in 
comnnmity,  und  r  obedience  to  the  said  Sieiu*  de  Paul, 
and  to  their  future  superiors  after  his  death,  under  the 
name  of  the  Company  or  Congregation  of  Priests  of  the 
Mission.  Those  who  shall  be  hereafter  admitted  to  this 
work  sliall  be  bound  to  the  intention. of  serving*  God  in 
the  aforesaid  manner,  and  of  observing'  the  rule  which 
shall  be  made  upon  this  point.  They  sliall  be  (obliged 
to  go  every  five  years  throug-h  all  the  estates  of  said  the 


^«^ . 


50 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


count  and  counter?,  to  })i'oac]i,  to  hear  confessions,  to 
catechise,  to  do  all  the  j^-ood  works  aforesaid,  and  to 
assist  spiritually  ])oor  prisoners,  that  they  may  turn  to 
profit  their  bodily  pains.  Thus  shall  the  said  count,  as 
general  of  the  ^-alleys,  satisfy  the  oblig'ation  bv  which 
he  feels  himself  bound ;  and  tlrs  charity  ho  intends  to 
be  perpetuated  towards  the  convicts  by  the  said  eccle- 
siastics, for  g'ood  and  just  considerations.  Lastly,  the 
said  count  and  countess  shall  remain  joint  founders  of 
this  work,  and,  with  their  heirs  and  successors  of  the 
same  family,  shall  for  ever  enjoy  the  rig'hts  and  privi- 
leg'es  which  are  conceded  and  g'vanted  to  patrons  by  the 
holy  canons ;  except  the  rig'ht  of  nomination,  which  they 
have  renounced." 

There  are  some  other  clauses  in  this  deed,  which  re- 
late to  the  rules  to  be  observed  by  the  ecclesiastics 
during-  the  missions,  as  well  as  at  other  times,  which  are 
too  long'  to  be  given  here.  Enoug-h,  however,  has  been 
quoted  to  explain  the  object  of  the  institution,  and  the 
spirit  wdiich  actuated  its  pious  and  noble  ibunders. 
There  is  one  point  which  must  not  be  overlooked,  and 
which  shows  in  a  wonderful  way  the  complete  disinter- 
estedness of  these  truly  g'reat  people.  There  is  not  one 
woi'd  from  beginning*  to  end  which  binds  the  new  order 
to  say  Masses,  either  fi  their  patrons  or  for  their 
family.  They  claim  no  share  in  the  good  works ;  they 
require  no  prayers  for  themselves ;  they  leave  the  mis- 
sionaries free,  that  they  may  apj)ly  themselves  un- 
shackled to  the  work  assigned  them,  and  that  all  may 
be  ahsorbod  in  the  one  important  duty.  Thus  was  the 
anxious  wish  of  the  good  countess  fulfilled,  and  the  great 
work  beg'un  which  God  had  especiallv  designed  for  Vin- 
cent. Small  in  its  beginning,  ^....l  limited  in  its  first 
action  to  a  mmute  portion  of  France — indeed,  almost  to 
the  estates  of  a  single  nobleman,  it  rapidly  developed, 
and  fpiickly  spread  itself  beyond  the  limits  of  the  land 
which  gave  it  LMrth.  And  now,  in  two  centni-ies,  it  has 
passed  into  all  lands,  and  the  children  of  St.  V.ncent  are 
to  1)6  met  doing'  tlieir  Master's  work  wherever  God 


m 
ra 


CH.  VIII.]  THE  COUNTESS  I)E  JOIQNY. 


51 


ay 
bhe 


calls  them  and  their  burning"  love  for  souls  cun  iind  a 
sphere. 

Tilt!  Countess  <ie  Joi<>'iiv  died  shortly  afterwards. 
It  seeniecl,  indeed,  as  though  the  labours  and  trials  of 
her  life  were  to  end  with  this  good  deed,  and  she  was 
at  once  to  enter  upon  her  reward.     Scarcely  had  two 
months  ela')sed  after  the  sii>-nin"'  of  tht  deed  of  founda- 
tion,  when  she  was  seized  with  her  last  illness ;  and  on 
the  Feast  of  St.  John  the  Baptist  the  soul  of  this  noble 
lady  passed  to  its  eternal  rest.     Vincent  was  there  to 
assist  her  with  the  many  consolations  and  aids  which 
holy  Church  provides  so  bountifully  ag'ainst  that  last 
time  of  trial ;  but  her  husband  was  away  in  Provence, 
busied  with  the  duties'  of  liis  hig-h  station.     She  died  in 
})eace,  as  those  must  die  who  live,  as  she  lived,  in  the 
fear  and  love  of  God,    In  her  hig-h  station  she  had  been 
ever  mindful  of  the  duties  and  responsibilities  which 
belong*  to  a  wider  and  more  influential  sphere.     The 
mother  had  trained  her  children  by  her  own  brig-ht 
example,  and  by  providing*  for  them  such  a  tutor  as 
Vincent  de  Paul ;  the  wife  had  inspired  her  noble  hus- 
band with  a  g-enerous  rivalry  in  works  of  mercy ;  the 
mistress  had  won  the  aifections  of  her  retainers,  and 
turned  that  influence  to  their  eternal  g*ain ;  while  the 
ruler  over  wide  domains  had  soug'ht  out  the  poor  and 
needy,  whom  others  cared  not  for,  and  lad  provided  as 
well  for  their  eternal  as  for  their  temporal  wants.     In 
hard  stern  times,  when  the  worst  passions  of  himian- 
nature  were  let  loose,  and  manv  a  man's  hand  was 
raised  ag'ainst  his  brother, — when  the  rag'c  of  civU  war 
and  the  violence  of  heresy  set  at  variance  those  whom 
God  had  joined  in  closest  ties, — when  the  land  was 
blackened  with  ravag*e  and  profaned  with  sacrilege, — 
the  pure  charity  and  untiring*  zeal  of  the  Countess  de 
Joig'ny  came  like  a  fair  vision  over  the  scene.    Her  pre- 
sence put  to  flig'ht  sin  and  blasphemy ;  she  broug*ht 
succour  to  the  distressed,  consolation  to  the  afflicted, 
and  that  priceless  sympathy  which  cheers  the  heart  and 
streng;thens  it  ag'ainst  severest  trials. 


:.'  : 


62 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


History  would  indeed  be  intolerable,  were  not  its 
darkest  pag-es  brig-htoned  by  such  lig'hts  as  these;  lig-hts 
wliich  remind  us  that  all  is  not  evil,  and  tjjat  God's 
ministers  are  silently  wooing"  even  Avhere  Sntan  holds 
such  mighty  sway.  What  heart  but  would  faint  at  the 
terrible  tale  of  war  and  rapine,  of  deceit  and  cruelty, 
which  blots  so  many  pages  of  each  nation's  annals,  were 
it  not  conscious  that  amidst  it  all  there  are  those  who 
quietly  undo  much  of  the  evil  which  the  sinl'ul  passions 
of  men  inllict  upon  the  world,  and  who  in  some  mea- 
sure alleviate  the  miseries  which  apparently  prevail 
without  mitigation  or  relief?  To  such  a  glorious  work 
was  the  g-ood  countess  called;  and  liow  well  she  fulfilled 
it  we  have  to  some  extent  been  able  to  see.  More 
might  have  been  told,  but  such  was  not  her  wish  :  she 
was  content  to  leave  her  many  noble  deeds  concealed 
with  God;  and  He  who  leaves  not  the  cup  of  cold  water 
unrecompensed  which  is  given  in  His  name  and  for  His 
sake,  will  in  the  great  day  remember  and  reward  the 
good  works  of  the  Countess  de  Joigny. 


53 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  COLLEGE  DE8  BONS  ENFANS. 

Vincent  was  now  JiLout  to  enter  upon  tlie  great  work 
of"  his  life;  that  work  whicli  is  more  especially  connected 
with  liis  name,  and  for  which,  one  mig'ht  say,  lie  had 
been  so  long*  m  training" — for  Vincent  was  no  long-er  a 
young'  man.  There  is  something"  very  sig-niHcant  in 
the  fact,  that  eig-ht-and-forty  years  of  his  life  had  heen 
spent  before  his  chief  work  was  heg'un.  We  mig-ht  have 
thoug'ht  that  fresher  powei's  and  younger  eneriz'ies  were 
needed  for  so  g-reat  an  undertaking-;  hut  God  judges 
not  as  man ;  and  He  who  entered  not  upon  His  public 
ministry  until  the  last  few  years  of  His  human  life, 
g'iving-  tliirty  years  to  preparation  and  less  than  four  to 
teaching",  was  pleased  to  lead  Vincent  in  His  own  divine 
steps,  and  to  keep  back  the  great  mission  of  the  Saint 
until  his  later  davs.  Not  that  the  life  he  was  iust  en- 
tering'  upon  required  any  abru})t  chang"e;  it  mig-lit 
rather  be  reg"arded  as  the  comph^tion  and  perfection  of 
what  had  gone  before.  Step  by  step  had  he  been  led 
on,  circumstance  after  circumstance  had  conducted  to 
the  one  end ;  anil  he  who  had  laid  down  no  ])lans  for 
the  future,  who  had  aimed  at  nothing"  but  to  do  Cod's 
will  as  it  came  before  him,  found  himself,  at  the  end  of 
nearly  fifty  years,  in  a  position  to  do  a  g-reat  work  for 
God's  g'lory,  and  with  powers  fitted  for  the  task  in- 
trusted to  him.  Let  us  pause  a  moment,  to  cast  a  hasty 
g"lance  over  the  life  winch  we  have  thus  far  traced,  and 
see  how  all  thing's  workpd  tog-ether,  not  onW  for  good 
to  one  who  so  loved  God,  but  in  an  especial  manner  to 
fit  him  for  the  work  on  which  he  was  aboiit  to  ent(  r. 

The  poor  peasant  boy,  who  fed  sheep  amidst  the 
Pyrenees,  never  forgot  the  class  from  whicli  he  sprang-; 
their  spiritual  wants  were  his  life-long*  care;  he  was 


JKl 


64 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


ever  mindful  of  his  lowly  birth,  and  failed  not  at  ]*ro- 
per  times  to  recall  it  to  himself  and  others.     When, 
in  later  years,  he  was  raised  to  so  high  a  position  under 
the  (jueen  reg-ent  that  every  g-reat   ecclesiastical  ap- 
pointment passed  tlirong'h  his  hands,  and  the  hlg'h  and 
noble  paid  court  to  tlie  humble  priest,  he  failed  not  to 
remind  them  that  he  was  but  the  son  of  a  peasant,  who 
had  once  fed  swine.   The  poor  student,  oblig'ed  to  teach 
others  tliat  he  mig-ht  have  wlierewitlial  to  pui-sue  his 
own  studies,  was  unconsciously  in  training"  for  the  pi3- 
ceptorsliij)  of  the  young'  scions  of  tlie  house  of  Gondi, 
wht-reby  ho  entered  into  the  first  labours  of  his  g'reat 
mission,  and  formed  so  enduring-  a  friendship  with  the 
founders  of  his  i'uture  society ;    while  the  prolong'ed 
course  which  he  was  enabled  to  g'o  through  at  the 
University  of  Toulouse  prej)ared  him  ibr  the  sj)iritual 
direction  of  his  community  and  tlie  effective  working 
of  his  spiritual  ret;  eats  for  the  clergy.     Did  his  career 
seem  interrupted  and  his  studies  frustrated  by  his  cap- 
tivity r.nd  slavery  in  Barbaiy  ?     Yet  this  it  was  that 
made  him  so  well  acquainted  with  the  condition  of 
slaves,  and  enabled  him  so  successfullv  to  carrv  out  his 
designs  of  charity  in  their  reg'ard.     Ilis  deliverance 
from  caj)tivity  led  him  to  Rome,  and  })laced  him  under 
the  eve  of  Cardinal  d'Ossat,  who  sent  him  to  Paris  on 
a  sj)ecial  embassy  to  the  king",  and  thus  broug'ht  him 
into  pei'sonal  contact  with  Fiither  de  Berulle  and  the  fa- 
mily of  Gondi.     Jf  he  left  tJiat  house  for  a  time,  it  was 
that  he  mig:lit  found  his  Confraternity  of  Charity ;  and 
when  he  returned,  it  was  to  orig-inate  the  g')eat  order 
which  bears  his  name.    Throusjh  all,  as  well  in  what  has 
been  mentioned  as  in  other  circumstances  which  have 
not  been  specified  here,  wv    r.y  trace  the  hand  of  God, 
"  sweetly  disposing'  all  thing's"  to  the  gi-eat  end  for 
which  Vincent  was  desig'iied  ;    while  he,  the  humble 
and  self-di^:tiusting-  servant  of  God,  looking  neither  to 
the  rig'ht  hand  nor  to  the  left,  but  doing'  zealously  and 
to  tlie  best  of  his  {)ower  whatever  came  in  his  way,  ful- 
filled Lis  part  in  the  task  of  preparation ;  and  so,  v/hen 


'  iHh 


A 


la- 
■os 
uid 
der 
las 
ave 
;od, 
I'or 
bble 
to 
and 
ful- 
■hen 


THE  COLLEGE  1>ES  BON8  EN  FANS. 


55 


CH.  IX.] 

at  lengtli  tlie  work  was  ready  to  his  hands,  ho  was 
found  wovthy  to  receive  it.  Abelly,  St.  Vincent's  best 
biog-rapher  and  liis  intimate  friend,  who  resigned  il'e 
bishopric  of  Rodez  that  he  might  join  tlie  Saint  in  tht 
new  mission,  has  drawn  us  a  ])ortrait  in  full  length  of 
Vincent  at  this  time,  which  we  will  partly  give  : 

"  In  poi'son  ho  was  of  middle  heig'ht  and  well 
formed;  his  head  was  somewhat  large,  but  well  }>ropor- 
tioned  to  the  rest  of  his  body;  liis  forehead  broad  and 
conmianding',  his  face  neither  too  full  nor  too  thin ;  his 
asf)ect  was  gentle,  his  g-lance  ^»iercing-,  his  hear'r.g* 
quick,  his  dcjjiortment  grave,  and  his  gravity  beuigTi ; 
his  countenance  was  simjde  and  unaffected,  his  manners 
very  affable,  and,  his  dis|)Osition  extremely  kind  and 
amiable.  His  tem})erament  was  ardent,  and  his  consti- 
tution strong*  and  i-obust ;  nevertheless  he  felt  severely 
changes  of  seasons,  and  was  very  subject  to  fevers.  His 
mind  was  large,  well  balanced,  and  circumspect;  capable 
of  great  things,  and  difficult  to  be  taken  unawares.  He 
never  entered  lightly  into  any  investigation;  bv^  ^'}'en 
he  had  once  seriouslv  taken  a  njatterhi  hand,  lie  laid  it 
bare  to  the  very  bone ;  he  weighed  every  circumstance, 
whether  great  or  small,  lie  anticipated  the  inconveni- 
ences aid  consequences  which  would  arise ;  and  yet. 
for  fear  of  deceiving'  himself,  lie  did  not  decide  at  once 
unless  he  was  pressed  to  d  >  so ;  and  he  came  to  no  con- 
clusion until  he  had  carei'ullv  weip-'hed  both  sides,  and 
was  even  then  very  g'lad  to  consult  others.  When  he 
was  obliged  to  give  advice,  or  to  come  to  any  decision, 
he  laid  open  the  question  with  so  much  order  and  clear- 
ness, that  he  astonished  the  most  expert,  especially  in 
spiritual  and  ecclesiastical  matters. 

"  He  never  was  in  a  hurry ;  no  matter  how  numerous 
or  how  complicated  were  the  aff'airs  which  he  had  in 
hand,  nothing'  put  him  out;  but  with  indefatigable  zeal 
he  entered  upon  them,  and  with  equal  perseverance  he 
went  through  the  work.  When  he  had  to  discuss  any 
question,  he  listened  willing-ly  to  others ;  never  inter- 
rupted any  one  while  speaking,  and  yet  patiently  pub- 


t  !   ■'■ 


,-3± 


t 


56 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


mitted  to  interruptions,  stopping*  sliort  at  once,  and 
ag-ain  resuming*  the  thread  ot*  his  discourse.  When  he 
g*ave  advice  on  any  matter,  he  never  spun  out  what  he 
had  to  say,  but  expressed  his  thoug*lits  in  clear  and 
concise  lann*uag*e ;  for  he  had  a  natural  eloquence, 
which  enabled  him  not  only  to  explain  himself  uriefly 
and  with  effect,  but  also  to  touch  his  hearers,  and  to 
persuade  them  by  winning*  words  when  ho  was  endea- 
vouring* to  do  them  g'ood.  In  every  thing*  he  said 
simi^b\'ity  was  combined  with  prudence :  he  spoke 
plainly  of  thing-s  as  he  judg-ed  them,  and  yet  he  well 
knew  how  to  be  silent  when  it  would  be  unsuitable  to 
speiil-  V  he  was  always  guarded  in  his  remarks,  and  was 
;  n-eful  never  to  say  or  write  any  thing*  harsh  or  irri- 
1  -ting*,  or  which  mig-ht  be  taken  to  express  any  bitter- 
ness o]'  'lisreg'ard  of  others,  or  to  arg-ue  want  of  respect 
or  of  o.wtrity  towards  any  one  whatever. 

"  His  dis{)osition  was  very  averse  to  chang'es,  no- 
velties, and  sing-ularities ;  it  was  a  maxim  of  iiis,  that 
when  matters  are  well  one  ouo'ht  not  easilv  to  rmsettle 
them  under  pretence  of  making*  them  better.  He  dis- 
trusted all  new  and  (ixtraordinary  propositions,  whether 
speculative  or  practical,  and  held  firmly  to  common 
uses  and  ojnnions,  especially  in  relig'ious  questions ;  on 
this  subject  he  said,  'The  human  mind  is  active  and 
restless,  and  the  cleverest  and  most  brilliant  are  then 
only  the  best  when  they  are  most  cautious,  while 
those  advance  with  certainty  who  never  wander  from 
the  way  in  which  the  multitude  of  wise  men  havo 
gone.'  His  heart  was  most  tender,  noble,  and  g-ener- 
ous,  easily  won  by  all  that  was  g-ood  and  holyj  and 
yet  he  had  a  most  perfect  control  over  all  its  inclina- 
tions, and  subjected  his  passions  so  perfectly  to  reason, 
that  scarcely  could  they  be  perceived  to  exist." 

It  is  not  necessary  to  follow  Abelly  thi*oug*h  all  the 
details  of  tlie  picture  he  has  ])ainted  so  minutely,  and 
with  all  the  affectionate  anxiety  of  an  attached  friend  : 
nor  need  we  dwell  long*  upon  the  elaborate  defence 
which   he  makes  of  Vincent  against   the  two  faults 


CH.  IX.]  THE  COLLEGE  DES  B0N9  ENFANS.  67 

which  some  attributed  to  liim :  namely,  tlirt  he  was 
ovtr-slow  in  determining-  mutters  and  in  carrying'  them 
into  execution,  and  tliat  lie  spoke  too  ill  of  himself  and 
too  well  of  others.  For  these  are  jiist  the  complaints 
we  should  expect  to  hear  from  those  who  could  not 
imitate  his  (piiet  ways,  and  who  are  too  ready  to  sit  in 
jud^-ment  upon  all  and  every  one.  Vincent  de  Paul 
needs  no  apolog-ist.  That  he  should  be  misunderstood 
by  people  who  mistook  haste  and  confusion  for  industry 
anddilig'ence,  was  but  natural;  such  minds  cannot  se})a- 
rate  labour  from  noise,  and  many  duties  from  much 
distraction;  rpiietness  with  such  is  but  another  name 
for  itlleness,  patience  but  intolerable  slowness,  consider- 
ation but  procrastination ;  and  yet,  had  they  but  con- 
sidered the  amount  of  work  Vincent  diil  in  his  quiet 
way,  the  time  he  saved  which  tht'y  wasted  in  fretting- 
and  fuming-,  they  would  have  learnt  to  think  differently 
of  him  in  tiiis  respect,  and  would  have  admired  his 
skill  in  doing-  so  much  with  so  little  show,  and  in  so 
quietly  fulfilling'  the  many  duties  which  fell  to  his 
share. 

As  to  the  other  complaint,  that  he  spoke  too  ill  of 
himself  and  too  well  of  others,  it  must  be  confessed 
that  herein  Vincent  set  himself  in  o})position  to  tlje 
g-eneral  practice  of  the  world,  wliich  h:is  a  very  diffe- 
rent rule  of  action.  To  put  forward  all  they  can  in 
praise  of  themselves,  and  to  conceal  all  tliat  tells  ag-ainst 
them,  is  a  rule  which  is  limited  to  no  one  class  orag-e  of 
men.  It  may  show  itself  more  undisg-uisedly  in  children 
and  among-  the  ruder  ?ort ;  but  it  luiks  no  less  surely 
under  habits  the  most  refined.  The  covert  allusion  to 
self,  and  the  skill  which  g-lides  so  rapidly  over  what  is 
not  to  oru-  praise,  illustrate  this  rule  as  truly  as  the 
loud  boasting-  of  the  vulg-ar  a)id  tlie  falsehood  which 
conceals  our  shame.  Vincent's  practice  was  just  the 
contrary  to  this;  and  herein  it  was  that  he  pwo  offi-nce 
to  many.  Hnd  he  been  content  to  g-o  half-wtiy,  to 
have  said  simj)ly  nothing-  about  himself,  they  might 
have  been  satisfied;  but  they  could  not  endure  that  he 


;! 


I    I 


f^im 


n 


58 


8T.  VINCE.VT  DE  PAUL. 


should  spoak  ill  of  liinisplf,  iiud  so  frorniPiitly  call  to 
mind  his  own  faults  l\'i'ha[)s  for  au  oi-dinary  Chris- 
tian this  would  be  tlie  safer  and  tlicrffore  the  wiser 
rule ;  but  saints  are  not  to  bo  judj^ed  like  other  men, 
for  this,  among'  other  reasons,  that  teni})tations  whieh 
overcome  the  less  perfect  have  no  power  over  them. 
Tims  there  is  dan<>-er  of  vanitv  uiule»*  the  form  of  hunii- 
lity  in  self-condemnation,  when  he  who  uses  it  has  not 
advanced  far  in  self-control.  He  who  willing-ly  and 
ostentatiously  calls  himself  a  sinner  is  not  always  ready 
to  endure  the  name  when  others  g'ive  it  to  him ;  nor 
can  he  at  all  times  ])ear  with  equanimity  that  those 
who  hear  his  humiliating*  words  about  himself  should 
quietly  accept  them  as  applicable  and  true.  There  is 
too  often  |)ride  at  the  bottom,  and  that  none  the  less 
real  because  it  is  "  the  })ride  which  apes  humility." 
But  with  men  like  Vincent  there  is  no  such  danger. 
They  who  liave  learned  to  look  into  their  own  hearts, — 
who  have  coui'ag"e  to  g-aze  stedfastly  upon  what  reveals 
itself  therein, — who  know  really  wliat  sin  is,  and  what 
God  thinks  of  it, — will  never  speak  lig-htly  of  its  bur- 
den. From  such  as  these  the  acknowledg-ment  of  their 
sins  is  wrung-  by  a  sense  of  justice  and  a  love  of  truth. 
They  know  what  they  are  in  tjjeir  own  eyes  and  in 
tlu'ir  IMaker's ;  and  they  shriidv  in  horror  iiom  words 
of  praise,  and  hasten  to  confess  what  they  really  are, 
lest  they  should  seem  to  accept  the  terms  which  others 
apply  to  them.  But  it  may  be  said,  How  can  these  be 
saints,  if  they  are  sinners '?  is  it  not  a  contradiction  in 
terms  .'*  No  one  is  without  sin  save  God  Incarnsite  and 
His  Blessed  Mother ;  but  the  more  God's  servants  are 
free  from  sin,  the  more  terrible  does  sin  become  in  their 
eyes ;  faults  which  to  others  scarcely  seem  worthy  of 
observation  are  to  them  of  great  moment ;  and  slig-ht 
imperfections,  as  the  world  judg-es,  come  out  into  view 
in  the  strong;  lig'ht  of  a  purified  conscience,  as  the  motes 
whicli  fill  the  air  at  all  times  are  made  visible  by  the 
brig'ht  rays  of  tJie  smi.  Hence  the  lang-uag-e  which  saints 
use  when  speaking*  of  themselves  is  not  exaggeration,  cw 


CH.  IX.J  THE  COLLEGE  DE9  BONS  ENFANS. 


69 


the  wish  to  apponr  worse  than  tliey  beHeve  tliemselves 
to  be;  but  it  is  tlje  knowln  \  .•  ot'wiiat  they  really  are, 
as  contrasted  with  what  Goa  would  have  them  to  be, 
which  forces  them  to  cry  out,  "  (jiod  be  merciful  to  me 
a  sinner."  Our  jiulg-ment  ol'  ourselves  dej)ends  upon 
the  sttindard  we  make  our  test :  he  who  aims  low  will 
think  well  of  himself;  but  he  who  makes  (Jod's  law 
his  rule  will  have  a  different  reckoninu*.  The  saints 
judg'e  themselves  as  Goil  will  judg'c  them ;  they  anti- 
ci{)ate  in  all  its  unerring*  strictness  the  last  judg'ment, 
and  they  are  confounded  at  their  own  unworthiness. 

Pride  can  find  ro  hiding'-place  in  a  heart  thus  scru- 
tinised;  its  ini"(ience  cannot  tini>'e  the  coh'urs  which 
paint  the  sins  c  '  the  really  contrite.  But  where  j)ride 
dwells,  the  lang-ua^  )  of  Innnility  is  mere  affectation  ; 
and  he  who  in  such  circumstances  calls  himself  the 
worst  of  sinners,  in  his  heart  denies  the  truth  which  his 
tong'ue  utters.  Vincent,  in  his  fretnlom  from  pride, 
could  with  safety  speak  thus  of  hims(4f ;  while  to  ordi- 
nary Christians  tlie  safer  rule  may  be  simply  to  keep 
silence,  and  to  say  nothing-  in  self-praise  or  self-con- 
demnation. The  less  self  is  forced  upon  others,  the 
bettor  for  all.  If  our  exam})le  >vill  profit,  it  will  eil'cct 
its  purpose  in  silence  ;  if  we  have  done  well,  c.  •  reward 
will  not  be  increased  by  our  proclaiming'  our  g-o^  a  deeds ; 
if  we  have  done  ill,  God  knows,  and  will  judge  us. 

As  to  the  other  part  of  the  charge  ag-ainsi  Vincent, 
that  he  spoke  too  well  of  others,  little  need  be  said,. 
It  follows  necessarily  from  the  former;  for  he  who  is 
severest  in  judg'ing*  himself  is  ever  g'entlest  in  dealing 
with  others.  Of  course,  h'S  own  explanation  was  a 
different   one :     "  There   are   some   people,"   lie   said. 


"who  alwavs  think  well  of  their  nei<»'l 


Doui*,  as 


far 


as 


true  charity  will  allow  them,  and  who  cannot  see  virtue 
without  praising'  it,  nor  the  virtuous  without  loving* 
them."  Such  was  his  own  case;  but  so  ])ru(h>nuy  did 
he  act,  that  he  jarcely  ever  praised  any  of  his  com- 
panions to  their  face ;  but  he  nevev  hesitated  to  encou- 
rage others,  by  rejoicing  in  the  gTaces  they  had  received, 


ilP 


^  'i 


00 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


and  u-  coriGrrntuliitini^'  them  updn  God's  g-oodneas  in 
their  behnU".  IL;  'vjidd  deal  to  others  the  mercy 
winch  God  hnd  dtnlt  to  liiin.  lie  knew  liow  easily 
woi'ds  nnd  actions  iire  misunderstood,  and  hence  lij 
WHS  cautions  in  jndg'in|j;*,  and  very  slow  in  condenuiiL»'U". 
When  there  was  room  for  a  yood  motive,  he  {^ave 
credit  for  its  influence  ;  when  he  could  not  speak  fa- 
vourahly,  he  simply  ke|)t  silence.  Of  com'-',  when 
rel)uke  wns  needed,  he  did  not  withhold  it,  for  his  was 
a  true  and  liot  a  sj)urious  charity ;  but  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible he  turned  from  it  to  do  what  was  so  much  moro 
cong-eninl  to  his  tender  and  loving"  heart,  to  speak 
kindly  to  all,  and  to  rejoice  with  them  in  the  goodness 
and  mercy  of  the  L  rd. 

But  it  is  time  tliiit  we  turn  from  this  consideration 
of  Vincent's  character  to  the  actions  which  helped  to 
mould  it,  and  wiiicli  in  a  measure  took  their  colour  from 
it.  The  g-reat  tie  which  hound  Vincent  to  the  house  of 
Gondi  was  now  removed.  The  countess  had  g'one  to 
her  eternal  crown,  and  tlie  promise  which  the  Saint  had 
given  had  been  fulfill-.d  ,  .'or  he  had  been  with  her  to 
the  last.  Immediat'U'  upon  her  death,  he  hastened  to 
convev  the  mournfui  i;iit'l*J5J'ence  to  the  Count  de  Joig-nv; 
um\  well  did  he  fultii  Hie  task,  for  which  he  was  so 
es])ecially  fitted  alike  hv  nature  and  by  grace,  of  com- 
forting- and  sujjporting"  the  bereaved  husband  in  the 
first  hours  of  his  distress.  As  soon  as  possible  he  ob- 
tained tliat  nobleman's  permission  to  g-ive  himself  en- 
tirely to  the  work  which  the  liberality  of  this  family 
had  endowed,  and,  in  1025,  he  took  up  his  residence  in 
the  Colleg-e  des  Bons  Enfans. 

Very  liumble  and  modest  w^ere  the  beginning's  of 
what  in  time  was  to  become  so  great  and  renowned. 
Tliere  was  one  whom  God  had  given  to  Vincent  years 
before,  and  who  had  worked  j^ide  by  side  with  hi.n  in 
all  his  missionary  labours  ever  since ;  one  whom  he 
loved  with  all  the  earnestness  of  his  tender  heart,  and 
who  had  been  to  him  in  its  highest  and  holiest  sense  a 
bi"Other.     This  was  M.  Portail,  who  joyfully  followed 


en.  IX.]  THE  COLLEGE  PES  BONS  ENFANS. 


61 


the  Saint  to  the  new  field  of  labour.  These  two  holy 
men  invited  u  third  to  join  r'lem,  to  whom  they  •••avo  a 
btipend  of  fifty  crowns  a-year ;  and  the  throe  niiji'ht  be 
seen  setting"  forth  from  their  new  residence  to  carry  on 
the  work  of  the  mission.  They  had  no  serv  nt  to  lopvo 
in  charji'e  of  the  colleg'e,  and  so  Vinc<nt  ^'ed  tlio 
door  and  left  the  key  with  some  nei«^-hbonr  i  'leir 

return.     Thus  they  went  fortli,  Ciirryini^  t'"""  f  ajrs 

tliey  needed  for  their  rustic  altar  and  f  nvn 

support,  and  passed  from  villag'e  to  villap-e,  cat  ig", 

preaching',  hearing*  confessions,  and  fulfilling- the  winous 
functions  of  the  mission  in  simplicity,  humility,  and 
cliarity.  They  asked  for  notijing"  in  return,  and  even 
refused  what  was  offered ;  being"  mindful  of  the  pious 
intention  of  their  founders,  that  they  should  literally 
fulfil  the  divine  command,  "  Freely  ye  have  received, 
freelv  C'ive."  The  first  scene  of  their  labours  was  tlio 
spot  where  the  mission  was  founded,  and  afterwards 
they  extended  their  care  to  other  parts  of  the  diocese 
of  Paris. 

Such  was  the  mustard-seed  from  which  the  lofty 
tree  of  the  Cong"rcg"ation  of  the  Mission  sprang".  Well 
mig'lit  Vincent  marvel  at  the  rapid  growth  of  the  work, 
and  say,  as  he  did  one  day  to  his  community  at  St. 
Lazarus :  "  We  went  forth  in  sing-leness  of  heart,  and 
without  any  thoug-lit  beyond  obeying*  the  Bishops  who 
sent  us,  to  preach  the  gospel  to  the  ])oor,  as  our  Lord 
had  done.  This  is  what  we  did ;  and  God  on  His  part  • 
did  what  He  had  foreseen  from  all  eternity.  He  blessed 
our  work ;  and  when  other  g'ood  ecclesiastics  perceived 
this,  they  beg"g"ed  permission  to  join  us ;  not  that  they 
came  all  nt  once,  but  from  time  to  time.  0  my  Sa- 
viour, who  could  ever  have  thouu'ht  that  such  results 
could  have  sprung"  from  the  condition  in  which  we  once 
were !  If  any  one  had  then  told  me  what  would  be, 
I  should  have  thoug-ht  that  la*  mocked  me ;  and  y(!t  it 
was  in  that  way  that  God  willed  our  com])any  to  begin. 
Can  you,  then,  call  that  human  which  no  man  had  ever 
thoug^ht  of  .^    For  neither  did  I  nor  did  poor  M.  Portail 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


h 


62 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


ever  dream  of  such  a  result;   alas,  we  were  very  far 
from  liaving-  any  such  thought !" 

Shortly  afterwards  two  otlier  priests  joined  them, 
whom  we  find  associated  with  Vincent  and  M.  Portail 
in  the  deed  of  foundation,  which  was  signed  on  tlie  4th 
of  Septemher  1026.  In  the  following*  May,  Louis  X 1 II. 
issued  letters-patent  confirming'  the  foundation,  and 
permitting"  "  the  said  association  and  congTegation  of 
Pi-iests  of  the  IMission  to  live  in  community,  and  to 
establish  itself  in  such  places  in  France  as  may  seem 
g"ood,  and  to  accept  all  leg'acies,  alms,  and  otfering-s 
which  may  be  givan  them." .  It  was  not  long*  before 
tlie  number  of  tliis  infant  community  was  increased  to 
seven,  and  thereby  Vincent  was  enabled  to  carry  on 
more  extensively  the  work  committed  to  his  care ;  and 
that  he  mig'ht  have  courage  to  persevere  under  all  the 
difficulties  which  beset  a  new  enterprise,  God's  Vicar 
on  earth  blessed  the  work,  and  g-ave  it  his  formal  sanc- 
tion. In  1632,  Urban  VIII.  issued  a  bull  bv  which 
ho  erected  the  ^company  into  a  congTegition,  under  the 
title  of  Priests  of  the  CongTegation  of  the  Mission,  and 

? laced  it  under  the  direction  of  Vincent,  to  whom  his 
loliness  g-ave  power  to  draw  up  and  consolidate  rules 
for  the  rig'ht  ordering*  of  this  congregation.  After- 
wards, to  set  the  civil  seal  on  what  had  already  re- 
ceived the  highest  ecclesiastical  sanction,  the  king  is- 
sued fresh  letters-patent,  in  May  1642,  which  were  veri- 
fied by  the  parliament  in  the  autumn  of  the  same  year. 
And  now  Vincent's  first  care  was  to  train  his  breth- 
ren for  the  due  performance  of  their  especial  work.  He 
foresaw  the  dangers  of  tlie  mission;  and  his  task  was  to 
strengthen  them,  that  they  might  stand  firm  under 
temptation.  Like  a  wise  builder,  he  would  dig  his 
foundations  deep ;  and  knowing  that  the  spiritual  edi- 
fice could  not  rest  secure  unless  it  was  built  upon  the 
most  perfect  humility,  he  took  every  opportunity  of 
extolling  and  enforcing  that  virtue.  A  trivial  circum- 
stance served  to  call  forth  one  of  his  most  impressive 
exhortations  ou  this  subject.     One  day,  a  priest,  who 


ba 
ha 
ma 


his 

tlie 
of 
lum- 
Isive 


CH.  IX.] 


THE  COI  LEGE  DES  BONS  ENFANS. 


63 


had  just  joinod  tlie  cong-regation,  in  speaking;  of  their 
body,  called  it  "this  holy  congTegation."  Vincent 
stopped  him  at  once,  and  said :  "■  Sir,  when  we  sj)eak 
of  the  company,  we  should  never  make  use  of  this  term 
'  holy,'  or  of  any  equivalent  one ;  but  we  should  rather 
say.  This  poor  company,  this  little  company,  or  such-like. 
In  so  doing"  we  shall  imitate  the  Son  of  God,  who  called 
the  company  of  His  apostles  and  disciples  a  little  flock. 
Oh,  that  God  would  g*ive  this  })oor  company  the  giace  to 
establish  itself  firmly  in  humility,  to  dig-  deep  and  build 
upon  this  virtue,  and  to  keep  itself  stedfastly  therein ! 
My  brethren,  let  us  not  deceive  ourselves ;  if  we  have 
not  humility,  we  have  nothing".  I  speak  not  only  of 
outward  humility,  but  more  especially  of  humilit}'  of 
heart,  and  of  that  which  leads  us  truly  to  believe  that 
there  is  no  one  on  earth  more  unworthy  than  you  and 
I,  and  that  the  company  of  the  Mission  is  the  most 
contemptible  of  all  companies,  and  the  poorest  in  re- 
gard both  to  the  number  and  the  condition  of  its  mem- 
bers, and  that  it  well  merits  to  be  thus  reg-arded  by  the 
world.  Alas  !  do  you  wish  to  be  hig-hly  esteemed  ? 
What  is  this  but  to  desire  to  be  unlike  tlie  Son  of  God  ? 
This  is  intolerable  pride.  When  the  Son  of  God  was 
on  the  eartli,  what  did  men  sav  of  Plim  'I  and  how  did 
He  wish  to  be  accounted  of  the  people  i*  As  a  fool,  as 
a  seditious  perstm,  as  a  sinner,  as  less  than  man,  thoug-h 
He  was  far  otherwise.  In  like  manner.  He  willed  to 
be  set  aside  for  Barabbas,  the  robber  and  murdoier.  0 
my  Saviour,  how  will  Thy  humility  confoiVid  sinners 
like  myself  at  the  judg'ment-day !  Let  us  1  ewnre  of 
this,  we  who  g-o  on  missions  and  preach  to  the  world. 
01"tentimes  one  sees  the  people  deeply  moved  by  what 
is  said,  sometimes  even  to  tears ;  and  it  may  chancj? 
that  they  cry  out,  as  of  old,  '  Blessed  is  the  womb  that 
bare  thee,  and  the  paps  that  g'ave  thee  suck !'  as  I 
have  heard  them  do.  Wiien  we  hear  this,  the  natural 
man  is  satisfied,  and  vanity  sjn-ing-s  up  and  flourishes 
if  we  do  not  repress  this  vain  delig-ht,  and  seek  purely 
the  g'lory  of  God,  for  which  alone  we  ought  to  labour;— 


I      I    >4 


'  I 


K4 


!  i-f 


ST.   VINCENT   DB  PAUL. 


yes,  purely  and  simply  for  the  glory  of  God  and  the  sal- 
vation of  souls.  If  we  have  any  other  end  but  this,  we 
preach  ourselves,  and  not  Jesus  Christ.  When  a  person 
preaches  to  gain  applause,  to  be  praised,  to  be  esteemed, 
or  to  be  spoken  of,  what  does  he  do? — this  preacher,  I  siiy, 
what  is  his  act?  A  sacrilege  ;  yes,  a  sacrilege  I  What ' 
make  the  word  of  God  and  things  divine  a  mere  instru- 
ment of  ambition,  a  means  by  which  to  gain  renown  !  'Tis 
sacrilege.  O  my  God,  give  grace  to  this  poor  little  com- 
pany, that  no  one  of  its  members  may  ever  fall  into  such 
a  sin  1  Believe  me,  gentlemen,  we  shall  never  be  fit  to 
do  the  work  of  God,  unless  we  have  a  profound  humi- 
lity, and  an  utter  contempt  of  ourselves.  No,  if  the 
Congregation  of  the  Mission  is  not  humble,  if  it  is  not 
convinced  that  it  can  do  nothing  of  moment,  and  that 
it  is  rather  fitted  to  ruin  alLthan  to  succeed  in  any 
thing,  it  will  never  do  a  great  work  ;  but  when  it  shall 
live  in  the  spirit  I  have  described,  then,  gentlemen,  it 
will  be  ready  for  the  purposes  of  God  ;  for  it  is  such  in- 
struments as  these  that  God  uses  to  work  His  great 
and  real  blessing.  Several  commentators,  in  explaining 
the  gospel  for  this  day,  which  speaks  of  the  five  wise 
and  the  five  foolish  virgins,  apply  the  parable  to  those 
who  live  in  community  and  have  given  up  the  world. 
If,  then,  it  is  true  that  half  these  virg'  'hat  is,  half 
the  community,  are  lost,  alas,  how  gi  j  ought  we 
to  fear,  and  I  especially  !  Let  us  take  coarage,  gentle- 
men, and  let  us  not  lose  heart  ;  let  us  give  ourselves  to 
God  with  a  good  grace,  let  us  renounce  ourselves  and 
our  own  inclinations,  our  ease  and  our  vanities  ;  let  us 
consider  that  we  have  no  greater  enemy  than  ourselves  ; 
let  us  do  all  the  good  we  can,  and  do  it  as  perfectly  as 
we  can.  It  is  not  enough  that  we  assist  our  neigh- 
bour, that  we  fast,  pray,  and  work  at  tlie  missions  ;  we 
do  well  herein,  but  there  is  something  more  to  be  done  ; 
we  must  do  all  ui  the  spirit  of  our  Lord,  in  the  way  in 
which  our  Lord  did  the  same,  humbly  and  sin^Hy,  that 
the  name  of  His  Father  might  be  glorified  and  His 
will  done. 


CH.  IX.J       THE  COLLEGE  DE9  BONS  ENFAN9. 


06 


us 

es  ; 

as 

we 
lie  ; 
in 
[hat 
lUiB 


**  Trees  will  not  produce  hetter  fruit  than  the  stock 
from  whence  they  spring* ;  and  we  are  in  some  sense  the 
stock  of  those  who  come  after  us,  wlio  in  all  prohability 
will  not  g'o  beyond  us.  If  we  have  done  well  they  also 
will  do  well,  and  the  example  will  ])ass  from  one  to 
anotlier;  those  who  remain  will  show  those  who  come 
after  the  way  of  virtue  in  which  their  predecessors 
walked,  and  these  will  teach  it  to  their  successors; 
and  this  they  will  do  by  the  aid  of  the  g-race  of  God, 
which  the  first  members  merited  for  them.  Whence 
comes  it  that  we  see  in  the  world  certain  families 
which  live  so  well  in  the  fear  of  God !  1  have  one 
especially  in  my  mind,  among'  others,  of  which  I  knew 
the  grandfather  and  father,  who  were  both  very  pros- 
perous ;  and  to  this  day  I  know  that  the  children  are 
the  same.  And  whence  comes  this '{  Simply  because 
their  fathers  merited  for  them  this  g'race  from  God 
of  a  good  and  holy  life,  according  to  tlio  promise  of 
God  Himself,  that  He  will  bless  such  families  to  the 
thousandth  generation.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  you 
may  see  husbands  and  wives  who  are  in  good  circum- 
stances and  live  well,  and  who  yet  ruin  and  destroy 
every  thing  in  their  hands,  and  succeed  in  nothing*.  And 
whence  comes  tbi'^  /  It  is  the  punishment  which  their 
forefathers  merited  from  God  for  their  g-rievous  faidts 
passing  upon  their  posterity,  according  to  that  which  is 
written,  that  God  will  visit  the  sins  of  tlie  fathers  upon 
the  children  to  the  fourth  generation.  And  although  this 
aj)plies  principally  to  temporal  goods,  yet  still  we  may 
take  it  in  some  sense  with  resj)ect  to  things  spiritual ; 
so  that  if  we  observe  our  rules  with  exactness,  if  we  ex- 
ercise ourselves  thoroughly  in  all  the  virtues  befitting*  a 
true  missionary,  we  shall  in  some  measure  merit  this 
grace  of  God  for  our  children,  that  is,  for  those  who 
come  after  us,  that  they  may  do  well,  as  we  did ;  and 
if  we  do  ill,  there  is  much  reason  to  fear  that  they  will 
do  the  same,  and  still  worse ;  for  nature  ever  lags  behind, 
and  tends  always  to  decay.  We  may  look  upon  our- 
selves as  the  fathers  of  those  who  come  affcer  us :  the 


f  fl 


\M 


60 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


company  is  as  yet  in  its  cnidle,  it  is  but  jnst  born,  it  has 
existed  but  a  few  years ;  is  it  not,  then,  in  its  cradle  ? 
Those  who  come  after  us  in  two  or  three  centuries  will 
look  upon  us  as  their  fathers ;  for  those  who  are  in  the 
first  century  are  as  the  first  fathers.  When  you  wish 
to  lay  stress  ujion  any  passag'e  in  the  writings  of  any 
Father  of  the  first  ag'es,  you  say,  'This  passage  is  men- 
tioned bv  such  a  Father,  who  lived  in  the  first  or  second 
century ;'  in  the  same  manner  tliey  will  sav, '  In  tie  time 
of  the  first  })riests  of  the  Congregation  of  the  Mission 
they  did  this,'  or  'they  lived  thus;'  orngain,  'such  and 
such  virtues  were  flourishing'.'  Such  being-  the  case, 
gentlemen,  what  an  example  ought  we  to  leave  to  our 
successors,  since  the  good  which  they  will  do  depends 
in  some  measure  upon  what  we  now  practise  !  If  it  is 
true,  as  some  Fathers  of  the  Church  say,  that  God  com- 
pels fathers  and  mothers  who  are  lost  to  Avitness  the  evil 
their  children  do  on  earth,  that  their  torment  may  be 
thereby  increased ;  and  the  more  these  children  advance 
in  wickedness,  the  more  these  parents,  \\  ho  by  their  ill 
exam})le  caused  those  sins,  suffer  the  vengeance  of  God ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  St.  Aug-ustine  &ays  that  God 
causes  g'ood  parents  to  see  in  heaven  the  good  their 
children  work  on  earth,  to  the  end  that  their  joy  may 
be  made  greater : — in  hke  manner,  g-entlemen,  what 
consolation  and  joy  shall  we  experience,  when  it  shall 
please  God  to  let  us  see  our  company  doing-  well, 
abounding-  in  g-ood  works,  observing-  faithfully  the  ap- 
pointed order  of  time  and  occupation,  and  living-  in  the 
practice  of  those  virtues  which  oiu*  g-ood  example  has 
set  before  them  !  Wretched  man  that  I  am !  who  say 
and  do  not.  Pray  to  God  for  me,  g-entlemen  j  pray  to 
God  for  me,  my  brethren,  that  God  may  convert  me.  Let 
us  g-ive  ourselves  wholly  to  God,  let  us  work  in  earnest, 
let  us  go  and  assist  the  poor  country-folk,  who  are 
waiting-  for  us.  By  the  grace  of  God  there  are  among 
us  priests  who  are  always  working-,  some  more  and 
others  less,  at  one  mission  or  at  another,  in  this  village 
or  in  that.     I  remember  once,  when  returning  from  a 


at 
11 
1, 


las 

to 
-et 
st, 
ire 


id 


a 


CH.  IX.]       THE  COLLKQE  DES  B0N8  ENFANS. 


67 


mission,  as  I  drew  near  to  Paris  it  seemed  as  thoug-h 
the  g'ates  of  the  city  oug-ht  to  fall  upon  and  crush  me ; 
and  seldom  did  I  return  from  the  mission  without  this 
thoug'ht  coming"  into  my  mind.  Tlie  reason  of  this  was, 
that  I  seemed  to  hear  within  me  some  one  saying",  'You 
are  going-  hack,  while  there  are  othey  villages  expecting" 
the  same  assistance  which  you  have  just  rendered  to 
this  one  or  to  that ;  if  you  had  not  gone  tinther,  it  is  pro- 
bable that  such  and  sucli  persons  would  have  died  in  the 
state  in  whicli  vou  found  them,  and  have  been  lost  and 
damned.  If  you  have  found  such  and  sucli  sins  in  tliis 
parish,  do  you  not  think  that  similar  abominations  are 
committed  in  the  neighbouring  one,  where  the  ])oor 
people  expect  a  mission  r'  And  you  are  going  back,  you 
are  leaving  them;  if  they  die  in  the  meanwhile,  and  die 
in  their  sins,  you  will  be  in  some  measure  the  cause  of 
their  ruin,  and  you  ought  to  fear  lest  God  should  punish 
you.'     Such  were  the  distractions  of  my  mind." 

It  was  by  such  teaching  as  this  that  Vincent  fitted 
and  disciplined  his  fellow-labourers  for  the  arduous 
task  God  had  intrusted  to  their  zeal.  For  five  years 
did  this  small  community  continue  its  labour  ot  love 
in  the  humble  way  we  have  described,  doing  its  work 
quietly  and  unostentatiously,  making  little  show  in 
their  poor  dwelling,  and  attracting  but  little  notice 
in  the  great  city.  Yet  were  there  eyes  scanning" 
closely  their  works  of  charity,  and  tongues  ready  in 
fitting*  season  to  tell  of  what  these  servants  of  God  were 
eifecting".  In  truth,  they  were  doing*  their  Master's 
work,  looking*  only  to  Him  for  help  and  comfort,  think- 
ing little  or  nothing  of  the  gresit  world  ai-ound  them, 
and  therefore  they  won  that  Divine  Master's  care; 
they  served  Him  who  is  never  served  in  vain,  they  put 
themselves  in  His  hands,  and  soon  we  shall  see  how  He 
cared  for  them. 


fS'vl 


.^1 


68 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE- PRIORY  OF  ST.  LAZARUS. 


There  was  at  this  time  in  Paris  a  house  of  the  Canons 
Regular  of  St.  Augustine,  bearing  the  name  of  St.  La- 
zarus. Its  revenues  were  large,  and  its  buildings  in 
accordance  with  its  dignity  and  means.  There  seemed 
little  in  common  between  the  poor  college  of  Les  Bons 
Enfans  with  its  obscure  community,  and  this  ^tntely 
convent  with  its  digniiied  ecclesiastics;  indeed,  they 
scarcely  knew  of  each  other's  existence,  and  slight 
chance  there  appeared  of  any  thing  bringing  them  to- 
gether. If  the  humble  missionaries  passed  by  the 
priory's  lofty  walls,  tiiey  did  not  raise  their  eyes  to 
mark  the  dignity  and  extent  of  the  place ;  while,  if  ac- 
cident led  the  canons  near  Vincent's  house,  there  was 
nothing  to  attract  the  observation  of  those  who  moved, 
so  to  speak,  in  a  higher  sphere.  Yet  God  brought  them 
together  for  their  mutual  gain.  The  manner  in  which 
this  happened  is  very  remarkable,  and  must  be  related 
somewhat  at  length.  The  details  have  been  very  care- 
fully recorded  by  one  who  was  an  important  instrument 
in  the  work,  and  of  whose  narrative  we  shall  make  use 
in  what  we  have  now  to  describe. 

It  appears  that,  in  the  year  1630,  the  Prior  of  St. 
Lazarus,  M.  Adrien  Le  Bon,  had  some  dispute  with  his 
community.  We  are  not  told  what  was  the  subject  of 
controversy,  but  merely  that  he  had  some  "  difficulty" 
with  them.  But  from  what  afterwards  a]r)pears,  it 
would  seem  that  they  could  not  quite  agree  upon  their 
manner  of  life.  St.  Augustine's  rule  was,  of  course, 
plain  enough ;  but  still  there  might  be  questions  of  de- 
tail which  each  community  would  have  to  determine 
for  itself:  matters  small  in  themselves  are  often  great 
in  their  effects ;  and  little  differences  in  a  religious  house 


lis 
[of 


CH.  X.] 


THE  PRIORY  OP  ST.  LAZARUS. 


60 


may  create  such  disorder  in  the  wliole  system,  that 
notliin^-  can  go  arig-lit  until  these  are  removed.     In  the 
present  case  the  j)rior  despaired  of  success,  and  wished 
to  g-et  away  from  what  he  fancied  he  couhl  not  remedv. 
There  was  no  great  difficulty  in  effecting*  an  exchanj^-e 
of  preferment,  when  so  hig'h  and  dignified  a  position  as 
that  of  Prior  of  St.  Lazarus  was  in  question.     Abbey.s 
and  rich  benefices  were  pressed  uj)on  him ;  and  he  migjjt 
easily  have  g-ained,  in  a  worldly  sense,  by  resigning^  his 
troublesome  post  for  one  more  lucrative  and  easy.    But 
the  prior  had  misgivings ;  after  all,  ho  might  be  wrong 
in  lamning"  away  from  a  difficult  position ;  jierhaps  it 
was  a  cross  which  God  sent  him ;  and  he  knew  that  he 
who  puts  his  hand  to  the  plough  and  then  looks  back 
is  not  worthy  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  So  he  listened 
to  the  advice  of  his  friends,  and  agreed  to  have  a  con- 
ference with  his  canons  in  the  presence  of  four  divines. 
They  met  at  the  house  of  one  of  the  four ;  and  af^er 
each  side  had  stated  its  case,  the  prior  "making"  his  com- 
plaints, and  the  sub-piior  replying*  in  tlie  name  of  the 
canons,  it  was  determined  that  a  rule  of  life  should  be 
prepared  which  all  should  follow  for  the  future.     This 
was  done ;  but  yet  the  prior  was  not  satisfied ;  whether 
the  new  rule  was  not  duly  observed,  or  did  not  elJectually 
meet  the  difficulty,  we  do  not  know;  but  for  some 
reason — and  his  subsequent  conduct  shows  that  '  ^lust 
have  been  a  good  and  holy  one — the  prior  ceased  n(  t  to 
desire  to  quit  his  office.     But,  like  a  true-hearted  man 
as  he  was,  he  thought  more  of  his  community  than  of 
himself;  and  the  first  question  that  presented  itself  was 
this,  What  can  I  do  for  them  ?     How  can  I  best  profit 
their  souls?     In  his  anxiety   he  thought  of  Vincent 
de  Paul  and  his  little  community.     Not  that  he  had 
any  personal  acquaintance  with  them ;  for  he  did  not 
even  know  where  they  lived ;  but  he  had  heard  speak 
of  certain  g-ood  priests,  and  of  the  great  work  they  had 
taken  in  hand ;  and  he  thoug-ht  that  if  he  could  esta- 
blish them  in  his  priory  he  should  have  a  share  in 
their  g*ood  deeds.     As  soon  as  this  resolution  was 


,:,  il 


70 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


formed,  he  Imstened  to  carry  it  into  effect ;  and  calling 
in  his  friend  and  neighbour  Dr.  Lostocq,  the  j)niish- 
priestof  St.  Laurence,  who  himself  relates  the  story,  the 
two  set  forth  toj»-other  to  make  the  generous  orter  to 
Vincent.  Dr.  Lostocq  was  a  friend  ot  our  Saint's ;  and 
doubtless  it  was  from  nim  that  the  prior  learned  of  the 
ffood  works  of  the  young  order ;  and  Q-reat  must  have 
been  his  pleasure  in  bringing*  two  such  men  together, 
and  in  being  thereby  the  medium  of  so  advantageous 
a  proposal  for  his  poor  fi'iend.  On  arriving  at  the 
"Bons  Enfana,"  the  prior  explained  the  purpose  of 
his  visit  to  Vincent ;  telling  him  how  he  had  heard  of 
his  order,  and  of  the  great  good  it  had  wrought  among 
the  poor;  and  concluded  by  saying  that  it  was  his 
anxious  wish  to  contribute  to  their  holy  work,  and  to 
that  end  he  begged  to  resign  to  their  use  his  Priory  of 
St.  Lazarus. 

Vincent's  astonishment  may  be  easily  imagined  at 
this  unexpected  oifer.     A  rich  priory,  with  its  large 

t)ossessions  and  extensive  buildings,  suddenly  cast  at 
lis  feet  by  one  who  was  an  utter  stranger  to  him ! 
The  Saint  trembled ;  and  upon  the  prior  remarking  it, 
he  rejjlied,  "  It  is  true,  sir,  your  proposal  frightens  me ; 
it  is  so  far  beyond  us,  that  I  dare  not  think  of  it.  We 
are  poor  priests,  who  live  in  a  simple  way,  with  no 
other  object  before  us  but  the  service  of  poor  country- 
people.  We  are  gTeatly  obliged  to  you,  sir,  for  your 
good-will,  and  thank  you  very  humbly  for  it."  In 
short,  he  showed  very  plainly  that  he  had  no  intention 
of  accepting  the  gift,  and  the  excellent  prior  was  ob- 
liged for  the  time  to  content  himself  with  this  answer ; 
but  so  impressed  was  he  with  all  he  saw  and  heard  of 
Vincent,  that  he  determined  to  renew  his  offer  on  a 
future  occasion,  and  told  the  Saint  that  he  would  give 
him  six  months  to  consider  about  it.  True  to  his  word, 
he  returned  at  the  end  of  that  time,  and  again  pressed 
Vincent  to  accept  his  priory ;  assuring  him  that  God 
had  put  the  idea  into  his  mind,  and  that  he  would  not 
rest  in  peace  until  he  had  gained  his  end.  But  nothing 


N., 


r,  "'^        THH  Pnronv  OP  ST.  ...,„,,.  ' 

scarcely  be  said    o  have  Lr"'""'^''^.'  ^^""^^^^   ^^ 
besides,  J,e  did  not  w"sh  to    n  T^^'^  '?*"  existence ; 
acceptance  of  thi.  laro-o  ,„a  t.    J'i  "^°"*'  ""^  the 
?nake  a  o.,eat  stir :  and  lie    i.lT";"*""*  '''''^'''^^  ^vould 
^ord  tliat  ho  <h-d'not  jlrvl  .r  T''''^y>  ""^^  i"  a 
was   thus  excusing.  hiS f  Lt''  ^"'""''-     ^^^^^  iie 
which  scnrcl^  an;  on    ell  woX  T'^'^^S'  an   offer 
«ell  for  dinner  rano-     ti.!      -^  ^^^"^^  I'ofused,  the 
to  dine  with  the  c'Smnn"^^;  F'Z  ^T^^J^^--^^^ 
entered  tJ.e  modest  refectorv    w/     '  '"^^  ''  ^^^  ^^'^f^'cn, 
jJiich  made  a  deep  imn  p£in  ^'''V'^'^<  was  a  seone 
dered  him  only  mofeZfSZ'n\h  ^'"'''  ""^   " -- 
a  body  of  ^,/-„  j.^  oZTm'^^'^n"  ^''T''  "^''^"c  ^ 
«een  sdence,  in  which  fL  P^^'  ^^^P^^  iUve-  tJm 

-aciing.  aloud  fr^^some^o,tt,;l^"'^^^  ^^^^^ 

given  to  the  sunnort  of  fL  )  "i  ^  ^^'^^^^  ^^^at  the  tiinp 
;^;^Jood  iorther,\^ttn^^s^^^^^^^^  "^  '^  ^^^^ 
of  the  communitj,  quiet  withom  fTo  ''''^'"  tIo,„eu„o„, 
7«tmmt ;  their  c^^temmc  s  "o  m  iKT "'^^  °^  ""'^" 
"te,  so  devout,  and  vpt  <n  r  p  ^^'  ^"^  ^'et  so  tnU  of 
utter  absence  o  fsoui  nuL'''  ^^'^"^,^««etation ;  sud.  5 

^o!'"n.,--aii  this  we„r  f^eT^r^^^*  «»ehgW;:'£? 

prior,  who  doubtless  failed  1^^  "^  ^^  ^^^«  «-ood 
scenes  w,,  ,,,,,,  neStyXcfm'aSe  *f  ^^  "'"^'^  ^^^-^ 
^lai ;  and  natural  was  it  tJ.nf  ,      """  "^oi'e  fami- 

reahsation  of  his  hop  /wh  n  sucVn  T^^  ^^"S"  for  Z 
he  found  in  a  more  XjJvZ'^l      '''''^^''  ""^  ^^'is  would 

^^  ^^'-^ed  as  he  had  b'^tS^'  ^^^^^^'^  «'-"'^? 

But  for  some  time  In^L    •.     " '°"'' ^  ^cene. 
^^.  I^e  Bon  to  sigh^vX     T  ''  ^'  '^^'  ^t  of        ' 
and  to  offer  his  rich  o^fJ.     ^'  ^"''^^  a  consummatinn 

j^  ^^.wi.t  a  s  it^i7  a  r  r^  Ss 

to  transfer  his  honours  to  «nnfi    ^    tlig'mtary  striving 
after  day  refusing-  them  r     Wp    ''  '^^  ^^^''^^  «t^^er  day 


II  • 


73 


ST.  VINCENT  DF-  PAUL 


almost  g'on(».  "  Wlmt  ji  iimii  you  are !"  lie  exci.'iiincd 
Olio  (isiy,  ni'tvv  urg-ing"  onco  iiion^  jiis  roqtu'st;  "if  you 
will  not  list(*n  to  me,  tell  me  nt  least  to  whom  you  will 
listen  :  whoso  advice  will  you  take  i*"  At  last  Vincent 
consented  to  name  one  to  whom  the  friendly  dispute 
should  be  referred;  and  he,  as  the  prior  anticipated, 
advised  the  acceptance  of  the  offer.  Great  was  the 
joy  of  M.  Le  Bon  at  this  his  final  success,  and  no  hiss 
was  that  of  the  friend  who  had  broug-iit  thti  two  g'ood 
men  tog-ether.  "  I  could  have  curried  M.  Vincent  on 
my  shoulders  to  St.  Lazarus  !"  he  exclaims  in  a  trans- 
port of  joy. 

On  the  8th  of  January  1632,  the  day  after  the  offer 
was  accepted,  Vincent  went  to  take  jiossession  of  his 
new  house,  and  saw  it  for  the  first  time.  Yes,  during* 
the  whole  of  the  year  in  which  tlie  prior  had  jaessed  it 
upon  him  with  so  much  earnestness,  he  hud  n(!ver  once 
been  near  it!  It  was  a  larg'e  and  a  rich  establishment, 
and  that  was  enough  to  set  him  against  it.  Little  cured 
he  for  its  position,  its  architecturfd  features,  or  its  otiier 
attractions ;  and  so,  when  imder  a  sense  of  duty  he 
went  to  live  in  it,  no  curiosity  or  excitement  showed 
itself  in  his  manner ;  he  went  (juietly  at  once  to  take 
up  his  abode  therein,  just  as  he  was  wont  to  come  homo 
from  a  mission  to  his  humble  college.  Thus  was  the 
young-  congreg-ation  transferred  to  tlie  scene  of  its  future 
labours,  and  the  Priory  of  St.  Lazarus  received  within 
its  stately  walls  the  humble  missionaries  who,  ns  Lazu- 
rist  Fathers,  were  to  spread  its  name  tlirougliout  tlio 
world  by  identifying  it  with  their  own. 

It  was  a  great  place,  this  Priory  of  St.  Lazarus,  in 
more  respects  than  one.  It  was  great  in  extent,  con- 
taining" within  its  walls  a  mag'niHcont  chapel,  and  the 
usual  buildings  of  a  "eligious  house  on  a  grand  scale; 
its  domain  enclosed  a  space  of  upwards  of  two  miles  in 
circumference,  and  readied  to  the  very  walls  of  Paiis ; 
and,  moreover,  it  had  great  temporal  power,  for  it 
claimed  and  exercised  the  highest  and  widest  jurisdic- 
tion over  its  dependencies.     In  old  feudal  language,  it 


in 
kon- 
Itlie 

|ile ; 

in 

Ivis ; 

it 

Iclic- 

it 


CH.  X.]  THE  PniORY  OP  ST.  LAZARUS.  ?• 

was  a  "  lordship  with  low,  niiddlo,  nnd  hijrh  jiidicutui-c;" 
that  is  to  say,  its  lord  could  hold  his  coiu't,  and  exe- 
cuto  judj^'iiuMit  in  all  causes,  from  tlie  lowest  to  t!ie 
hij^'JH'st.  In  thos«  times  siicli  power  was  somethitij^ 
very  real  and  tan;^'il»lo;  and  its  possessor  enjoy<'d  rij^'hts 
and  j)rivile}j;;es  which  wo  can  now  scarcely  understand. 
It  is  difficult  to  connect  the  8im|)le  and  modest  priests 
of  the  mission  with  the  idea  which  all  tiiis  feudal  gran- 
deur conveys.  Their  hunddo  course  of  life,  their  i)lain 
rule,  their  loving'  intercourse  with  the  poor,  amon«j 
whom  their  days  are  spent — all  that  especially  charac- 
terises them  seems  to  have  nothing-  in  common  with  the 
position  in  which  we  now  find  them  placed.  What  need 
of  a  s|)lendid  church  for  those  who  are  so  seldom  at  homo, 
and  who  almost  daily  offer  the  ^-eat  sacrifice  on  the 
rude  altar  they  carry  with  them  from  place  to  place? 
What  use  can  there  he  in  lofty  halls  and  long  cloisters 
for  a  few  wearied  men  who  return  at  night  exhausted 
from  the  toilsome  missionary  tour?  Vincent  de  Paul  and 
his  little  hand  seem  quite  out  of  place;  and  one  is  almost 
tempted  at  first  to  suppose  that  our  Saint  had  made  a 
mistake  in  yielding*  to  the  persuasions  of  the  prior. 

So  may  they  themselves  have  thoug-ht  when  first 
they  left  their  poor  college  and  took  up  their  abode 
with  the  canons  of  St.  Augustine.  Yet  had  they  cour 
fidence  in  their  leader,  whose  prudence,  they  knew, 
fully  matched  his  zeal ;  and  so  they  were  content  to 
leave  the  matter  with  him  who  had  hitherto  so  well 
directed  them.  Had  any  such  misgivings  crossed  their 
minds,  they  would  doubtless  have  been  strengthened 
by  a  difficulty  which  immediately  met  them.  The 
good  prior  was  anxious,  naturally  enough,  that  his 
canons  should  profit  as  much  as  possible  by  the  pre- 
sence of  the  new  comers ;  and  he  thought  that  the  best 
way  to  effect  this  end  would  be  for  the  two  bodies  to 
imite  together,  and  to  live  in  common.  He  doubtless 
remembered  the  edification  which  he  had  himself  re- 
ceived when  dining  at  the  Bons  Enfans,  and  he  well 
knew  the  gradual  out  abiding  effect  which  a  good  ex- 


4   i  I 


74 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAKLr 


ample  works,  and  how  it  tells  in  the  long-  nin  infinitely 
more  than  the  best  advice.  So  he  sug^g^ested  to  Vin- 
cent that  the  two  communities  should  in  a  great  mea- 
sure become  one.  And  here  was  the  Saint's  first  prac- 
tical difficulty.  It  was  not  that  he  doubted  for  a  mo- 
ment what  must  be  done  j  but  he  felt  a  delicacy  in 
refusing"  the  prior's  request.  His  small  communit}'' 
had  been  received  with  open  arms  by  those  who  so  un- 
mistakably expressed  their  love  and  reverence  for  them; 
and  here,  as  his  very  first  act,  he  had  to  refuse  what 
seemed  so  reasonable  a  request.  It  was  a  sore  trial  for 
his  gentle  loving  nature  to  mark  with  a  discourtesy  his 
advent  among  them,  while  his  humility  must  have  suf- 
fered by  an  aot  which  looked  somewhat  like  spiritual 
pride.  Yet,  when  the  interests  of  his  order  were  at 
stake,  Vincent  knew  no  hesitation :  personal  feelings, 
the  wish  to  oblige,  and  the  fear  of  misconstruction, 
must  all  be  set  aside  when  his  own  good  sense  pointed 
out  a  plain  course  of  duty ;  and  so  he  plainly  told  the 
prior  that  it  could  not  be  as  he  wished.  He  explained 
to  him  the  ride"  by  which  his  order  was  giiided  :  he 
showed  how  severely  it  would  press  upon  those  who 
had  not  been  called  to  such  a  life,  and  how  unreason- 
able it  would  therefore  be  to  expect  the  canons  of  the 
house  to  receive  it ;  while  at  the  same  time  he  pointed 
out  how  impossible  it  would  be  for  two  bodies  of  men 
to  live  in  complete  community  who  follow  a  different 
rule,  hov^  those  who  observed  the  stricter  practice 
would  suffer  by  the  presence  of  the  others,  while  the 
latter  would  fail  to  derive  advantage  from  association 
on  such  terms. 

And,  indeed,  the  rule  of  the  missionaries  was  a 
severe  one  to  flesh  and  blood.  One  point  alone  will 
suffice  to  illustrate  this.  Let  us  see  what  it  enjoined  in 
regj)ect  to  the  observance  of  silence.  Not  a.  word  was 
to  be  spoken  while  they  remained  in  the  house  from 
the  hour  of  nig'ht-prayer  until  dinner-time  of  the  fol- 
lowing" day.  After  dinner  one  hour's  conversation  was 
allowed  j  then  silence  was  to  be  again  observed  until 


CH.  X.J 


THE  PRIORV  OP  ST.  LAZARUS. 


75 


after  supper,  when  another  hour  was  given  to  relaxa- 
tion; and  then  once  more  the  rule  had  force.  Thus, 
with  the  exception  of  these  two  liours,  a  solemn  silence 
was  ohserved  in  their  house  continually ;  no  word  was 
spoken  save  when  necessity  required,  and  even  then 
what  was  said  was  uttered  in  the  fewest  words,  and  the 
lowest  tone.  So  important  did  Vincent  consider  this 
portion  of  theii*  rule,  such  stress  did  he  lav  upon  its 
ohservance,  that  he  was  prepared  to  sacrihce  all  the 
advantag-es  his  order  might  derive  from  their  new 
home  rather  than  abandon  or  relax  it :  "I  would  ra- 
ther," said  he  in  one  of  his  letters  on  this  subject, 
"that  we  should  live  on  in  our  poverty  than  that  we 
should  run  counter  to  God's  design  regarding  us." 
He  well  knew  the  da.ger  which  attends  out-door  em- 
ployment, the  distractions  which  the  world  presents  to 
those  who  move  in  it  even  to  do  God's  work;  and 
therefore  he  would  train  his  society  at  home  in  silence 
and  recollection,  that  they  might  be  prepared  to  over- 
come such  temptations  when  they  went  forth  to  their 
special  labours.  "  True  missionaries,"  he  was  wont  to 
say,  "  ought  to  be  Cistertians  at  home  and  Apostles 
abroad."  The  good  prior  submitted  to  the  decision 
which  thus  excluded  his  canons  from  some  of  the  bene- 
fits which  he  anticipated  for  them,  and  welcomed  with 
graceful  courtesy  and  loving  heart  the  founder  and  his 
order,  who  thus  entered  like  conquerors  on  their  own 
terms ;  and  all  seemed  settled. 

But  now  another  difficulty  presented  itself  in  an 
unexpected  quarter.  Royal  sanction  had  already  set 
its  seal  upon  the  work,  and  the  parliament  was  about 
to  record  the  patent  Louis  XIII.  had  granted,  when 
a  certain  religious  community  put  in  a  claim  to  the 
estate.  This  claim,  howpver,  was  soon  set  aside ;  and 
indeed  it  would  not  have  called  for  notice,  had  it  not 
served  to  illustrate  the  charity  and  disinterestedness  of 
our  Saint.  Where  was  Vincent  while  the  question  was 
being  decided  which  was  so  se,riously  to  affect  the 
well-being  of  his  young  order  ?    He  was  no  recluse,  no 


i'        !      I 


t;t 


N 


76 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL, 


dreaming*  visionary,  but  a  very  plain  matter-of-fact  per- 
sonage, as  the  reader  must  long-  since  liave  observed ; 
and  so  we  mig'lit  naturally  enoug'li  look  for  him  among 
the  lawyers  and  councillors,  furnishing*  them  with  evi- 
dence, and  helping'  forward  his  case  with  all  his  wonted 
skill  and  energy.  But  we  should  seek  him  there  in 
vain  :  if  we  would  find  him  in  tliis  important  hour,  we 
mu6t  leave  the  court  of  law,  and  enter  another  portion 
of  the  royal  palace ;  and  in  the  Sainte  Chapelle,  so  rich 
in  holy  memories  and  in  monuments  of  God's  grace, 
we  shall  find  him  absorbed  in  prayer  and  in  divine  con- 
templation. Yes,  he  had  learnt  a  holy  indifference, 
and  there  awaited  calmly  the  result.  One  thought 
alone  seemed  to  trouble  him,  and  this  but  more  strong-ly 
marks  his  complete  unselfishness.  When  he  came  to 
St.  Lazarus,  he  found  there  three  or  four  poor  idiots, 
whom  their  relations  had  intrusted  to  the  care  of  the 
prior.  Vincent's  first  request  was  that  he  might  take 
charg-e  of  them,  liis  love  yearning  for  an  exercise 
which  could  meet  with  no  return  on  earth ;  and  now, 
if  he  feels  an  anxiety  about  the  trial,  it  is  on  account 
of  these  poor  helpless  idiots.  He  could  patiently  sub- 
mit without  a  sign  of  regret  to  quit  the  noble  mansion 
which  he  had  just  entered ;  it  gave  him  no  trouble  to 
abandon  plans  which  he  had  formed  for  his  commu- 
nity 'y  but  it  went  to  his  heart  to  contemplate  the  pros- 
pect of  separating  from  these  afflicted  beings,  to  whose 
service  he  had  so  joyfully  devoted  himself.  However, 
he  was  spared  this  trial ;  the  opposition  was  soon  over- 
come, and  Vincent  remained  in  quiet  possession  of  the 
Priory  of  St.  Lazarus, 


F^iii— >iwyw 


77 


CHAPTER  XL 

INSTITUTIONS  FOB  THE  CLEROT. 

And  now  our  Saint  is  in  his  new  house :  disputes  have 
ceased,  opposition  has  passed  away,  and  the  old  work 
is  to  g'o  on, — but  not  precisely  as  before ;  for  its  new 
home  is  not  without  its  influence  (as  what  home  is  ?)  j 
new  opportunities  present  themselves  in  new  circum- 
stances, fresh  duties  grow  up,  and  require,  if  not  a  new 
spirit,  at  least  a  new  development  of  the  old.  So  was 
it  with  Vincent  and  his  little  band;  their  sphere  of 
action  was  suddenly  enlarged ;  they  had  hitherto  gone 
on  their  way  scarcely  marked  of  men,  dwelling*  in  the 
comparative  obscurity  of  their  little  convent;  but  now 
they  find  themselves  the  possessors  of  a  noble  priory, 
with  all  the  powers  and  duties  which  a  larg-e  domain  at 
that  time  implied.  Their  spirit  is  the  same,  but  it  has 
to  fit  and  adapt  itself  to  a  diiferent  order  of  thing's ;  it 
must  expand  with  its  increased  resom'ces  and  its  wider 
rang-e.  And  herein  does  its  divine  orig-in  manifest  it- 
self, hereby  is  the  spirit  of  the  order  vindicated.  Were 
it  a  mere  thing  of  earth,  devised  by  man  and  depend- 
ent upon  him,  thinist  by  him  into  the  Church,  and  sus- 
tained therein  solely  by  human  means,  it  would  soon 
sicken  and  die;  or  at  best  it  would  remain  as  at  its 
formation,  incapable  of  development,  for  it  would  have 
no  real  vigorous  life  in  it.  Like  a  tender  exotic,  it 
mig'ht  for  a  time  be  preserved,  with  watchful  care  and 
jealous  precaution  it  mig-ht  linger  on  a  jvhile;  but  once 
remove  it  fi'om  the  scene  of  its  sickly  life,  once"  let  the 
fresh  air  of  heaven  visit  it  freely,  and  it  shrinks  up  and 
withers.  Not  so  the  institution  which  springs  up  in  a 
genial  soil,  which  is  inspired  with  the  spirit  of  the 
Church  to  which  it  belongs,  which  is  part  and  parcel 
of  that  Church,  lives  in  its  life,  and  is  in  truth  one  with 


lii     I 


I    1 


.bit 


4*. 


76  8T.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 

it.  Such  an  institution  requires  no  external  nurture, 
depends  on  no  foreign  support,  and  needs  no  special  in- 
dulg-ence  to  foster  its  growth.  Planted  in  the  Church, 
and  nourished  by  the  divine  life  which  the  Church  im- 
parts, it  is  ever  at  home;  within  the  naiTowest  limits 
it  can  do  its  work,  and  when  its  sphere  is  enlarg-cd  it 
expands  with  that  sphere.  Wonderful  is  its  power  of 
self-adaptation  J  no  stern,  unbendine'  rule  eats  out  its 
life,  no  fetters  manacle  its  strong  limbs,  no  unloving- 
eye  watches  its  every  movement  to  trammel  and  re- 
strain its  vigour.  And  why  is  this  freedom  ?  Because 
it  can  be  trusted,  because  it  is  known,  and  because  it  is 
loved.  It  is  doing  its  proper  work,  and  so  it  can  be 
trusted ;  it  is  but  the  continuance  of  what,  in  one  form 
or  another,  has  been  from  the  first,  and  therefore  it  is 
known ;  its  fi'uits  abide  and  are  rich  in  blessings  to  all 
who  care  to  gather  them,  and  therefore  it  is  loved. 

Such  are  the  religious  orders  in  the  Church.  Each 
one  has  its  own  peculiar  work,  yet  all  combine  in  the 
one  great  purpose  for  which  the  Church  exists ;  each 
opens  an  especial  field  in  which  men  may  do  that  to 
which  God  has  called  them,  while  all  are  indeed  one  in 
unity  of  purpose.  Thus  every  portion  of  the  Lord's 
vineyard  is  duly  cultivated;  for  each  finds  labourers 
such  as  it  requires,  and  He  who  sends  them  guides  and 
blesses  them  in  their  immediate  work.  Need  we  stay 
to  show  how  such  a  system  of  division  of  labour  en- 
sures the  completion  ot  every  part,  or  to  point  out  how 
healthful  and  vigorous  is  the  action  which  results  from 
so  wise  a  dispensation  ?  In  such  a  system  every  thing 
gi'ows  up  naturally  and  in  due  order ;  nothing  is  forced 
or  out  of  place;  no  abortive  attempts  are  made,  be- 
cause the  right  people  undertake  the  right  work ;  and 
no  one  rushes  out  of  his  own  place  to  strive  vainly  to 
supply  wants  to  which  others  are  better  fitted  to  minis- 
ter. And  thus  it  is,  that  while  men  are  labouring  in 
what  God  has  given  them  to  do,  they  find  their  work 
grow^ing  to  their  hands ;  what  was  but  little  when  they 
entered  upon  it,  as  time  goes  on  expands  and  widens 


CH.  XI.]       INSTITUTIONS  FOR  THE  CLERGY. 


79 


into  a  mighty  enterprise,  which,  had  they  seen  the  re- 
sult when  they  beg'an,  they  mig'ht  not  have  dared  to 
undertake  J  but  while  it  has  grown  their  powers  have 
grown  too,  and  at  last  they  find  that  they  have  been 
made  equal  to  the  work  for  which  they  were,  unknown 
to  themselves,  from  the  first  designed. 

Thus  was  it  with  Vincent  de  Paul :  he  had  gone  on 
from  day  to  day  with  no  other  purpose  than  to  do  God's 
work  heartily  and  diligently;  troubling  himself  but 
little  with  thoughts  or  plans  for  the  future,  he  was  con- 
tent to  busy  himself  with  that  which  he  had  immedi- 
ately in  hand,  whatever  it  might  be;  and  thus  his 
missionary  efforts  STew  from  small  beginnings  into  the 
great  order  which  bears  his  name. 

If,  as  we  said,  his  companions  might  have  had  mis- 
giving's when  they  first  entered  the  stately  priory  of 
St.  Lazaras  lest  they  were  going  beyond  their  means 
in  occujrying  so  lofty  a  sphere,  it  was  not  long  before 
they  had  occasion  to  observe  how  well  their  new  resi- 
dence could  ftirther  the  great  work  they  had  in  hand, 
and  enable  them  to  extend  its  influence  over  a  wider 
field.  It  was  true  that  they  had  room  enough  and  to 
spare  in  its  spacious  courts ;  but  quickly  were  those  to 
come  who  were  to  find  in  them  a  temporary  home  in 
an  hour  when  they  most  needed  it.  Shortly  before  his 
arrival  at  St.  Lazarus,  Vincent  instituted  the  religious 
exercises  for  the  candidates  for  holy  orders;  but  it 
was  not  until  the  larger  resources  of  this  new  residence 
gave  him  the  means  of  receiving  the  young  ecclesiastics 
into  his  house,  that  that  system  could  be  completely 
carried  out.  The  suggestion  of  these  exercises  is  due 
to  the  pious  Augustin  Potier,  Bishop  of  Beauvais,  one 
of  Vincent's  best  and  truest  friends.  The  heart  of  this 
zealous  prelate  had  lonff  been  gi-ieved  at  the  unsatis- 
factory state  of  his  clergy.  He  felt  the  necessity 
of  increasing  the  number  of  those  who  were  to  mi- 
nister at  the  altar,  while  at  the  same  time  he  dreaded 
sending  the  unworthy  to  fill  so  momentous  an  office. 
Where  was  be  to  find  those  on  whom  he  could  lay  such 


80 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


responsibilities,  and  how  could  he  test  their  fitness  for 
the  sacred  trust?  In  such  unsettled  and  disordered 
times,  there  seemed  but  little  chance  of  correcting-  and 
bringing"  back  to  a  sense  of  their  duty  those  who  had 
fallen  into  evil  waysj  his  hopes  lay  rather  with  the 
young",  who  were  just  entering*  upon  the  sacred  course ; 
if  he  could  test  tlie  vocation  of  these,  and  fit  them  by 
preparatory  discipline  for  their  sacred  calling",  he  knew 
that  his  great  object  would  be  best  attained ;  and  so  he 
consulted  Vincent  de  Paul,  as  was  his  wont  whenever 
matters  of  impoi-tance  pressed  upon  him.  The  result  of 
this  consultation  was,  that  Vincent  went  to  Beauvais 
before  the  next  ordination,  and,  assisted  by  some  other 
priests,  as  soon  as  the  examinations  for  ordination  were 
completed  g-ave  the  candidates  a  spiritual  retreat  of 
some  days'  duration ;  in  the  course  of  which  be  pre- 
pared them  to  make  a  general  confession,  and  thus 
brought  them  in  due  dispositions  of  mind  to  receive 
the  sacred  orders  to  which  they  were  called. 

Not  long"  afterwards  the  Bishop  came  to  Paris,  and 
so  impressed  the  Archbishop  of  that  city  with  the  rela- 
tion of  what  had  been  done  at  Beauvais,  that  it  was 
determined  that  Vincent  should  receive  into  a  ten  days' 
retreat  every  candidate  for  ordination  in  Paris.  And 
this  practice  has  ever  since  prevailed  in  that  city ;  while 
it  has  gradually  extended  to  other  dioceses  of  France, 
and  far  beyond  the  limits  of  that  country.  Soon  were 
the  wide  walls  of  St.  Lazarus  receiving  fresh  inmates, 
who,  in  obedience  to  the  Archbishop's  commands,  were 

{)reparing  themselves  by  these  spiritual  exercises  for 
loly  orders;  and  thus  already  was  a  new  labour  of 
love  growing  up  under  the  zealous  hands  of  Vincent 
and  his  community.  But  this  did  not  sufiice  him; 
rather  did  ho  regard  these  young  ecclesiastics  as  the 
first-fruits  of  that  greater  band  which  was  day  by  day 
to  send  its  members  under  his  hospitable  roof  for  sliel- 
ter  against  the  storms  of  life,  and  for  consolation  under 
the  weight  of  its  tiials. 

There  was  a  need  felt,  and  Vincent  was  there  to 


CH.XI.]         INSTITUTIONS  FOR  THE  CLEnOY.  81 

minister  to  it;  a  want  had  to  be  supplied,  and  who 
more  ready  and  willing  for  the  work  tlian  he  whose 
capacity  for  love  was  equalled  only  by  his  energy  in 
fulfilling  love's  offices?  Amid  the  distractions  and  cares 
of  active  life,  man  needs  continually  to  be  reminded  of 
his  chief  concern :  self-examination  will  daily  help  in 
this  work,  and  meditation  will  raise  the  mind  above 
the  world  and  its  ends.  But  beyond  this,  it  has  ever 
been  felt  needful  to  set  apart  especial  seasons  when  this 
duty  is  to  be  performed  more  fully  and  in  gTeater  detail  j 
and  to  assist  those  who  are  thus  employed  many  spiri- 
tual works  have  been  written.  It  is  also  the  practice  of 
the  Church  to  give  public  sermons  and  instructions  for 
several  days  in  succession,  that  those  whose  occupations 
are  in  the  world  may,  for  a  time  at  least,  withdraw 
their  minds  from  worldly  cares,  and  devote  them  to  tho 
concerns  of  the  soul.  But  Vincent  felt  that  there  was 
yet  a  want  which  these  provisions  did  not  reach ;  and 
to  meet  it  he  now  threw  open  his  house.  There  are 
times  when  each  man  stands  more  especially  in  need  of 
spiritual  direction  and  retirement,  seasons  which  are 
the  crises  of  his  future  life.  No  public  instructions, 
interrupted  by  worldly  callings,  can  suffice;  nothing  but 
an  entire  and  absolute  exclusion  of  the  world  for  a  time 
will  work  the  required  end.  What  consolation  to  a 
weary  heart  to  find  such  aid  and  guidance  at  such 
a  time;  what  encouragement  to  the  doubtful,  what 
strength  to  the  weak !  To  such  the  gates  of  the 
Priory  of  St.  Lazarus  were  ever  open.  No  question 
was  asked  as  to  the  rank  or  means  of  the  applicant ; 
enough  that  he  sought  admission  and  wished  to  go  into 
retreat :  the  hospitality  of  the  house  supplied  his  tem- 
poral wants,  the  spiritual  skill  of  Vincent  and  his 
brethren  ministered  to  his  soul.  What  a  curious  scene 
did  the  common  refectory  present !  what  a  strange 
mixture  of  classes  !  For  all  who  were  in  retreat  shared 
alike  in  the  simple  repast — nobles,  mechanics,  bag'gars, 
ecclesiastics  of  high  rank,  and  poor  wandering  friars; 
the  wise  and  the  ignorant,  the  rich  and  the  poor,  each 


•  !^S- 


11 


i 
11  ■• 


:'s,i 


82 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


order  seemed  to  have  its  representntive  there ;  for  tlie 
same  si)iritual  need  broug-ht  tliem  all  to  those  who  knew 
so  well  how  to  minister  to  all.  Well  might  Vincent  say, 
in  his  own  quiet  humorous  way,  that  St.  Lnzarus  was 
a  veritable  Noah's  ark,  into  which  all  kinds  of  animals, 
both  great  and  small,  were  received.  It  was  a  heavy 
charge  upon  the  means  of  the  community,  but  Vincent 
knew  too  well  its  spiritual  value  to  let  any  such  con- 
sideration check  the  good  work;  indeed,  there  is 
scarcely  any  thing*  which  he  enforced  more  strictly 
upon  his  order  than  the  continuance  of  this  practice :  he 
called  it  a  gift  from  heaven,  and  as  such  he  prized  it. 

Another  want  was  thus  supplied,  another  class,  or  it 
might  rather  be  said  a  mighty  gatherino*  of  all  classes, 
was  thus  provided  for ;  and  yet  the  zeal  of  the  young 
community  was  not  satisfied :  while  any  remained  who 
could  claim  their  aid,  they  seemed  to  feel  that  their 
work  was  as  yet  imperfect.  The  young  ecclesiastic 
found  a  home  within  their  walls  wherein  his  yocation 
might  be  tried,  and  his  spiritual  armour  essayed;  while 
every  man,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  secular, 
religious,  and  laic  alike,  might  pass  through  the  si)iri- 
tual  discipline  of  the  retreat,  and  even  those  who  could 
not  have  their  wants  ministered  to  within  the  priory 
w^ere  cared  for  in  fitting  place,  as  we  shall  see  here- 
after when  we  come  to  speak  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity ; 
for  Vincent  provided  that  the  house  of  those  holy  women 
should  be  open  to  females,  as  his  own  priory  received 
every  man  who  sought  admission  therein.  Thus  the 
work  advanced,  and,  like  a  goodly  tree,  it  threw  out  its 
branches  over  all  who  sought  its  shelter,  while  its  roots 
struck  far  and  deep  into  tiie  soil  in  which  it  grew. 

One  good  work  led  to  another ;  one  want  supplied 
but  served  to  bring  to  light  a  second,  which  arose  out  of 
the  former.  The  taste  for  spiritual  food  once  formed,  a 
cravino-  grew  which  could  not  be  withstood.  Thus  was  it 
with  fhose  who  at  St.  Lazanis  had  been  prepared  by  spi- 
ritual exercises  for  the  sacred  ministry.  They  had  tasted 
of  the  sweet  thing's  which  holy  Ghwch  provides  so  bouu- 


CH.  XI.]  INSTITUTIONS  FOIl  THE  CLEROY. 


83 


tifully  for  those  who  give  themselves  wholly  to  her  ser- 
vice ;  they  had  been  strengthened  by  her  counsels  for  the 
wai'fare  to  which  they  were  culled ;  and  when  they  went 
forth  to  the  active  duties  of  their  state  they  naturally  dis- 
trusted their  own  powers,  and  yearned  after  that  support 
and  encourao^ement  which  they  had  received  within  the 
hallowed  walls.  Vincent  and  his  brethren  had  g'uided 
them  in  their  preparation  for  the  priesthood ;  why  should 
they  not  help  them  still,  now  tliat  they  were  in  the 
midst  of  its  engagements  ?  They  had  grown  to  love 
St.  Lazarus  and  its  quiet  holy  ways ;  why  should  they 
not,  from  time  to  time,  return  to  its  calm  retreat  and 
recruit  their  strength?  They  had  derived  assistance 
from  mutual  intercourse ;  what  should  hinder  them 
from  meetinw"  again,  that  each  might  bring  his  expe- 
rience to  help  the  rest,  and  that  all  miglit  again  go 
forth,  with  renewed  energy,  to  bear  his  part  in  the  con- 
flict with  the  world  and  its  evil  ways  ?  Such  were  the 
arguments  with  which  they  pressed  our  Saint  j  and  he, 
of  all  men,  was  the  last  to  throw  obstacles  in  the  way 
of  spiritual  advancement :  so  it  was  arranged  that  they 
should  assemble  once  a  week  at  St.  Lazarus,  under 
Vincent's  direction,  and  hold  what  are  called  "  spiritual 
conferences,"  in  which  they  Avere  to  confer  upon  matters 
connected  with  their  state  of  life,  upon  tlie  ecclesiastical 
virtues,  and  upon  their  especial  duties.  The  good  which 
resulted  from  these  conferences  soon  bore  testimony  to 
the  wisdom  which  designed  and  guided  them ;  and 
their  speedy  adoption  in  other  places  extended  far  and 
wide  a  blessing  which,  like  so  many  others,  flowed  from 
the  hallowed  precincts  of  the  Priory  of  St.  Lazarus. 

There  is  one  circumstance  connected  with  these  con- 
ferences which  must  not  be  passed  over,  since  it  bears 
the  highest  testimony  to  the  good  which  resulted  from 
them,  and  comes  from  a  quarter  which  is  least  open  to 
suspicion.  No  one  will  accuse  Cardinal  Richelieu  of 
too  much  credulity,  or  charge  him  with  want  of  dis- 
cernment in  judging  of  those  with  whom  he  had  to 
deal.    Of  course  the  ejustence  of  these  conferences  soon 


\  m 


■ , '    ii 
I-' 


MM 


:M 


84 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


became  known  to  one  whose  eag-le  g-lanco  nothing 
escaped ;  and  it  may  be  that  he  looked  with  suspicion 
upon  reg-ular  meetings  which,  in  (hiys  of  such  dark  and 
frequent  conspiracies,  mig'ht  have  an  object  in  view  far 
different  from  the  ostensible  one.  So  he  sent  for  Vin- 
cent, and  questioned  him  as  to  his  conferences.  The 
interview  was  important  to  botli  and  to  their  common 
country,  for  it  brouf^ht  into  close  union  two  of  the  most 
powerful  men  of  the  day,  and  combined  them  in  a  work 
which  perhaps  did  more  for  the  Church  of  France  than 
any  of  the  more  celebrated  actions  which  distingiiislie*! 
the  career  of  the  ffreat  cardinal.  The  modest  and  retiring" 
priest  stands  in  tlie  presence  of  the  renowned  statesman, 
and  to  the  searchino;  questions  which  Richelieu  knows 
BO  well  how  to  put,  he  replies  with  a  plain  statement  of 
what  he  had  done,  and  for  what  purpose  those  con- 
ferences were  held.  If  ever  man  could  read  the  human 
heart,  and  pierce  its  innermost  recesses  with  a  glance,  it 
was  Richelieu;  and  now  his  look  is  turned  upon  that 
broad  expansive  brow,  and  reads  in  those  loving*  inno- 
cent eyes  a  tale  of  devotion  and  self-sacrifice  which 
Vincent's  lips  would  be  the  last  to  tell.  He  listens 
with  increasing-  interest  to  the  account  the  Saint  gives 
of  his  community;  for  the  cardinal  will  know  all,  and 
ere  the  relation  is  concluded  he  has  determinetl  to  use 
Vincent  as  his  instrument  for  a  great  good.  If  the 
now  aged  statesman  cannot  dewte  time  and  attention 
enough  to  the  selection  of  the  persons  best  fitted  for 
the  high  ecclesiastical  offices  which  he  has  to  fill,  here 
is  one  before  him  on  whom  he  can  rely,  one  who  has 
already  not  only  brought  tog'ether  in  these  conferences 
the  zealous  young  men  who  are  just  entering  upon 
their  career  of  duty,  but  has  won  to  the  same  hot)''  exer- 
cises the  good  and  devout  among  the  clergy  of  Paris. 
Riclielieu  had  great  faults,  but  none  could  justly  accuse 
him  of  neglect  or  indifference  in  matters  of  this  kind ; 
it  was  not  now  for  the  first  time  that  he  felt  the  )'espoH- 
sibility  of  making  good  appointments  to  important  posi- 
tions m  the  Church ;  and  so  he  gladly  availed  himself  of 


CH.  XI.] 


INSTITUTIONS  FOR  THK  CLEROY. 


86 


the  disinterested  advice  of  Vincent.  He  (niestions  liini 
as  to  wiioin  he  considers  most  worthy  of  tho  mitre;  and 
while  Vincent  mentions  certain  names,  tlie  sajiacious  and 
prudent  minister  takes  pen  in  hand,  and  draws  up  tlie 
list  that  he  may  submit  it  to  the  king*.  Wliat  a  scene  is 
tliis  !  The  mig'l^y  statesman,  who  swayed  France  with 
more  tlian  royal  power,  whoso  word  was  law,  and  whose 
very  presence  awed  all  beliolders — tljo  great  Richelieu, 
sits  with  pen  in  hand,  and  writes  at  the  dictation  of  tlie 
humble  Vincent  the  names  of  those  whom  the  sovereign 
is  to  call  to  highest  station!  Wlien  did  intrigue  gain 
for  its  ablest  master  power  equal  to  that  which  is  nere 
yielded  to  the  majesty  of  truth  and  holiness  ?  Truly  do 
the  saints  possess  the  earth,  and  the  humble  and  meek 
are  exalted ! 

There  was  an  inconvenience  attending  this  sudden 
accession  of  power  which  it  required  all  Vincent's  j)ru- 
dence  to  overcome.  One  great  object  which  he  aimed 
at  in  the  spiritual  conferences  was  to  inspire  in  these 
zealous  priests  a  love  for  poverty  and  for  the  lowest 
stations  in  the  Church ;  and  now  he  has  to  select  from 
this  same  body  those  who  are  to  be  elevated  to  high 
dignities.  The  line  he  followed  was  a  i)lain  and  simple 
one,  and  yet  full  of  the  truest  wisdom.  He  continued 
as  before  to  inculcate  the  duty  of  self-abasement,  and 
to  inspire  the  spirit  of  humility  and  indifference  for 
worldly  honours ;  and  never  once  so  much  as  dropped  a 
hint  of  the  influence  he  j)ossessed  with  the  cardinal, 
nor  led  any  one  to  su])pose  that  the  appointments  to 
high  office  passed  through  his  hands.  So  little  cared 
he  for  the  reputation  of  power;  so  sensitively  did  he 
shrink  from  all  that  might  draw  the  eyes  of  the  world 
upon  him. 

Nor  was  this  the  only  good  work  in  which  Vincent 
co-operated  with  Cardinal  Richelieu.  The  regard  which 
that  great  minister  entertained  for  him  gave  Vincent 
ready  access  to  his  presence,  and,  come  when  he  might, 
he  found  him  ready  to  listen  to  his  suggestions,  and  to 


11 


86 


iT.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


B  "^st  alike  with  liia  pui-se  ftnd  influeiico  the  plnns  of 
oIk..  '"'*  niifl  piety  which  Vincent  hiul  over  in  hand. 

We  do  not  intend  to  consider  in  cluonoio^ical  order 
the  g-rciit  institutions  wiiich  our  Saint  founded;  they 
foUowed  ^o  mpidly  upon  one  another,  that  Uttle  vvoiihl 
1)0  g'uined  hy  thus  arranging'  tlieni.  Riither  would  wo 
croup  togetlier  thoye  wliich  naturally  eoni))ino  hy  simi- 
larity of  purpose :  hy  so  doing*  we  shall  hetter  appre- 
ciate eacli  particular  work  when  we  sf^e  it  in  its  rehition 
to  kindred  olnects,  while  at  the  same  tinui  we  shall  he 
ahle  more  fully  to  understand  the  completeness  of  the 
whole  which  tneso  several  works  unite  in  forming*.  It 
is  for  this  reason  that  we  are  now  hring'ing*  together 
the  several  institutions  which  grew  up  in  inmiediatu 
connection  with  the  house  of  St.  Lazarus,  and  especially 
those  which  more  directly  related  to  the  spiritual  '.a- 
vancement  of  the  clerg'y ;  reserving*  for  future  chvipters 
the  consideration  of  tliose  corporal  works  of  mercy ,  em- 
bracing* alike  the  city  of  Paris  and  the  most  distant 
parts  of  the  empire,  which  in  times  of  deepest  distress 
met  gig*antic  wants  with  corresponding*  succours,  and 
while  they  ministered  to  transitory  requirements,  took 
root  as  pennanent  institutions  which  time  has  but 
streng-thened  and  exttfided. 

Vincent  has  not  yet  done  with  the  clergy.  He  has 
another  scheme  to  bring*  before  the  cardinal,  and,  as 
before,  ho  finds  in  him  a  ready  and  zealous  co-operator. 
Already  he  has  provided  a  retreat  for  those  who  are 
just  about  to  be  ordained,  as  well  as  spiritual  conferences 
for  those  who  are  on  the  mission ;  and  now  there  seems 
only  one  more  institution  needed,  and  that  is,  one  in 
which  the  recently  ordained,  or  those  who  are  nearly 
ready  for  ordination,  may  pass  one  or  two  years  in  pious 
exercises,  in  the  divine  service,  in  stud;;,  i<if;*  the  Iiigher 
branches  of  theology,  ilie  ritual  of  the  Oliur  '.  v  o  ad- 
ministration of  the  sacraments,  catechi;  U;  and  preach- 
ing*. The  cardinal  not  only  approves  of  the  idea,  but 
at  once  gives  Vincent  a  thousand  crowns  to  carry  it  out 


OH.  XI.]  IN8T1  i  UTI0N8  FOK  TUB  CLKROY. 


87 


in  ]\\*  old  coUop-**  of  tlio  Pons  Enfnns,  nnd  the  first  ocr\e- 
niftstics  nro  receivi  ;  Hicre  in  Fcltruurv  of  the  yoii>' 1^**43. 
Before  long"  ofhors  ontiTfd  tlio  collo}j;e  ftt  their  own 
cxpnnsft;  nnd  tli  '  t\io  tSrm inn rt/  oi' t\m  Worn  Enfuns 
lind  its  ori'»*in.  8liortlv  nffcrwrtrds  fsiinilar  institiitionji 
spninj^  np  olsewliero,  and  Vineont  5-aw  with  no  small 
satisfaction  the  f^'ood  work  spreading-  and  l)rinj>inpf  forth 
frnit.  As  years  passed  on,  this  8(!ininnrv  outi;Tew  the 
colle<»'e  in  whioh  it  had  been  placed,  and  then  ^  incfnt 
removed  the  yonng-er  students  to  a  house  adjoining  St. 
Lazarus,  to  which  ho  g-avo  the  name  of  the  Scminury 
of  St.  Charles,  and  here  his  own  priests  instructed  them; 
a  work  which  was  long*  afterwards  continued,  nnd  wliich 
trained  up  many  pious  youths  who  suhsenuently  entered 
the  ecclesiastical  state. 

This  last  institution  completed  the  whole  W')rk ;  and 
thus,  from  first  to  last,  from  childhood  till  de;  Mj,  Vin- 
cent had  provided  the  clerg-y  of  his  diocese  with  spi- 
ritual nurture.  The  boy  who  entered  the  Seunnary  of 
St.  Charles  might  in  duo  time  pass  to  that  of  tli  Bons 
Enfans  to  complete  his  clerical  studies ;  the  Pri  n-y  of 
St.  Lazarus  received  him  at  the  end  of  his  course  for 
his  solemn  retreat  before  ordination;  and  when  he  had 
entered  upon  the  duties  of  his  state,  the  same  (toors 
were  open  weekly  to  admit  him  to  the  spiritual  ( <m- 
ferences,  which  strengthened  and  encourag'ed  him  in 
his  arduous  duties ;  while  once  a  year  he  was  cahed 
again  into  a  longer  retreat,  that  he  might  take  account 
of  his  spiritual  state  and  pre.pare  for  the  end.  This  w  :is 
the  result  of  Vincent's  laboui's  for  his  brother-] )riosts  ; 
and  who  shall  reckon  the  good  which  Paris  gained  bv 
this  one  work  ?  Who  shall  tell  what  blessings  the  ex- 
ertions of  this  humble  priest  brought  upon  his  agii  and 
nation?  When  men  were  warring  without,  Vincent 
was  toiling  witliin  ;  while  heresy  and  disorder  were 
pulling*  down  the  strongholds  of  religion,  in  the  midst 
of  tumult  and  blasphemy  the  zealous  priest  was  quietly 
building  up  the  inner  temple  in  the  souls  of  the  faithful. 
Silftntly,  antl  little  marked  of  man,  the  holy  woi'k  went 


I. 


n 
If 


$8  ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 

on;  and  when  calmer  moments  came,  and  the  din  of 
civil  war  had  ceased,  men  marvelled  to  find  what  had 
gi'own  up  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  how  that  obscure 
man  had  perfected  a  work  which  should  stand  when 
dynasties  had  been  swept  away,  and  should  carry  on 
his  name  to  times  when  those  who  in  his  day  were 
l^veat  should  be  forgotten  or  despised. 


89 


CHAPTER  XIL 


MADAME  LE  GItAS. 


We  have  seen  what  Vincent  did  for  the  spiritual  re- 
quirements of  his  day ;  how  lie  met  one  of  its  most  pressing- 
wants  with  institutions  whicli  insured,  as  far  as  human 
sjig'acity  could  insure,  a  due  supply  of  learned  and  pious 
ecclesiastics.  Let  us  now  proceed  to  consider  what  he 
did  for  the  temporal  necessities  of  the  poor.  The  reader 
may  remember  what  was  related  in  a  former  cluipter 
of  an  institution  which  sprung-  up  imder  Vincent's 
direction  at  Chatillon ;  how  the  ill-reg-ulated  relief  of  a 
family,  whose  distress  he  had  mentioned  in  the  pulpit, 
suggested  to  his  mind  the  necessity  of  a  well-organised 
system  of  succour  for  the  suffering  poor ;  and  how  he 
at  once  carried  the  idea  into  effect  and  founded  his  first 
Confi'aternity  of  Charity.  We  saw  how  he  introduced 
the  same  system  into  other  places ;  and  now  we  have 
to  follow  up  this  germ  of  charity  into  its  full  and  per- 
fect development. 

The  spread  of  these  confraternities  was  most  rapid ; 
and  so  highly  did  Vincent  esteem  them,  that  lie  made 
a  point  of  instituting'  them  wherever  he  gave  a  mission. 
In  time  they  were  isolated  from  one  another,  without 
mucli  machinery  to  guide  them,  and  left  of  necessity 
to  the  energy  of  one  or  two  persons  in  each  place.  All 
that  our  Saint  could  do  was  to  m-g'e  some  of  the  simple 
villagers  to  undertake  in  some  measure  the  care  of  those 
who  stood  most  in  need  of  their  assistance;  he  fur- 
nished tliem  with  a  few  ])lain  rules,  and,  as  occasion 
offered,  visited  and  helped  them.  But  as  their  number 
increased,  the  time  required  for  their  superintendence 
was  more  than  Vincent  could  spare  from  his  other 
duties ;  and,  moreover,  experience  sliowed  that  a  female 
hand  was  needed  to  train  those  who  had  little  but 


ill 


4' 


I    ' 


:?'  ! 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


charity  to  qiialif}'  tliem  for  the  task.  It  was  at  the 
very  time  that  this  want  began  to  make  itself  felt,  that 
God  raised  up  an  instrument  for  His  purpose,  and 
placed  it  in  Vincent's  hands  for  the  work  he  had  before 
nim. 

There  is  a  name  which  ranks  liig-h  in  tlie  annals 
of  charity, — a  name  most  dear  to  France,  and  one 
which  cannot  be  uttered  without  emotion  wherever  the 
daughters  of  charity  are  known.  It  is  that  of  Madame 
Le  Gi'as.  Placed  by  birth  and  marriage  in  a  high 
position,  the  widow  of  the  secretary  of  Mary  of  Medicis, 
she  laid  aside  the  ease  and  dignity  of  her  station,  and  in 
faihng  health  devoted  her  life  to  the  service  of  the  poor. 
By  the  advice  of  her  spiritual  guide,  the  Bishop  de 
Belley,  she  put  herself  under  the  direction  of  Vincent, 
and  took  up  her  abode  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
College  of  Bons  Enfans  in  1625,  just  at  the  time  the 
Saint  came  to  reside  there,  upon  the  death  of  the 
Countess  de  JoigTiy.  For  four  years  did  she  devote 
herself  to  works  of  mercy  among*  the  poor  in  that 
neig'hbourhood ;  but  it  does  not  appear  that  she  ex- 
tended her  cares  beyond  this  district.  She  was,  as  it 
were,  in  training*  for  the  greater  and  more  extensive 
work  that  was  before  her,  and  Vincent  passed  her 
throug'h  this  novitiate  that  her  powers  might  be  tried, 
her  vocation  proved,  and  the  purposes  for  which  she  was 
designed  clearly  manifested :  so  jealous  was  Vincent  of 
the  instruments  he  employed,  so  cautious  in  testing 
those  whom  he  would  use,  so  careful  lest  impulse  or 
enthusiasm  should  lead  any  to  offer  themselves  for  a 
work  to  which  they  were  not  called  of  God.  At  the 
end  of  this  time,  in  1G29,  he  allowed  her  to  enter  upon 
the  undertaking* ;  and  then  it  was  that  with  well-disci- 
plined mind  and  instructed  zeal  she  made  her  first  visit 
to  the  several  confraternities  which  Vincent  and  his 
colleagues  had  founded  in  diilerent  parts  of  the  country. 
How  frauo'ht  with  blessing's  must  these  visits  have  been 
to  those  zealous  women,  *vho  in  their  humble  way  were 
cari'ying  on  the  great  and  holy  work !     Her  very  pro- 


CH.  XII.] 


MADAME  LE  QRAS. 


91 


sence  among-  them  must  have  cheered  many  a  drooping 
heart,  which  had  almost  learnt  to  despond  amid  the 
trials  and  disappointments  of  those  hard  and  cruel 
times ;  while  the  advice  which  her  experience  made  so 
precious  derived  additional  value  from  the  worth  and 
sweetness  of  her  who  g-ave  it.  Nor  did  she  come  empty- 
handed  :  money  for  those  who  were  in  need,  clothing*  for 
the  destitute,  and  medicines  for  the  sick — these  were 
the  gifts  which  marked  her  presence,  and  which  enabled 
those  she  visited  to  carry  on  more  effectually  the  work 
they  had  taken  in  hand.  Where  confraternities  were 
dying"  out,  slie  revived  and  renewed  them ;  where  the 
labour  which  fell  to  their  lot  was  more  than  they  could 
perform,  she  increased  their  numbers ;  where  aug'ht  was 
ill-regulated,  she  corrected  and  amended  it;  and  to 
every  place  she  brought  suggestions  and  words  of  com- 
fort and  encouragement. 

Nor  was  the  zeal  and  energy  of  Madame  Le  Gras 
limited  to  the  temporal  wants  of  those  among  whom 
she  went :  in  her  way,  and  within  her  proper  sphere, 
she  cared  for  the  souls  as  well  as  for  the  bodies  of  the 
poor  J  and  so,  while  she  remained  in  any  place  to  look 
after  the  confraternities,  she  failed  not,  in  whatever 
leisure  time  she  could  command,  to  collect  the  poor 
g-irls  of  the  place  in  some  house,  where,  with  the  sanc- 
tion of  the  priest,  she  instructed  them  in  the  catechism 
and  in  their  religious  duties.  And  this  was  done  with 
such  meekness  and  true  humility,  tliat  she  won  the 
hearts  of  all  with  whom  she  came  in  contact.  If  she 
found  a  school  'i  the  place,  she  cheerfully  offered  her 
assistance  to  the  mistress,  and  spent  the  time  working* 
with  her,  really  sharing*  in  her  labours,  and  not  merely 
criticising*  what  had  been  done ;  joining*  with  her  as  a 
friend,  and  so  winning*  her  regarii ;  while  others  might 
have  destroyed  all  the  good  theh*  skill  would  have  dune, 
by  assuming*  the  place  of  a  supei  ioi*,  and  making  their 
very  presence  an  act  of  condesccn^jion.  If  it  happened 
that  she  found  no  school  in  the  place,  she  would  at  once 
begin  the  work  herself  j  gathering*  the  children   ibout 


0 


m^ 


W:i 


m 


02 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


her,  she  would  enter,  with  all  her  ardent  zeal  and  win- 
ning sweetness,  into  the  wearisome  task  of  laying-  the 
foundation  upon  which  others  were  to  build ;  and  with 
untiring  patience  and  never-failing*  gentleness  she  would 
gain  the  attention  even  of  the  most  froward.  Then 
would  she  select  the  best  mistress  she  could  find,  and 
commit  to  her  care  the  school  she  had  begun. 

For  several  years  did  she  persevere  in  the  arduous 
task  thus  committed  to  her,  and  far  and  wide  extended 
the  range  of  her  influence ;  the  dioceses  of  Beauvais, 
Paris,  Senlis,  Soissons,  Meaux,  Chalons  in  Champagiie, 
and  Chartres,  witnessed  her  labours ;  village  and  city, 
highway  and  byway,  alike  shared  her  care ;  and  wherever 
Vincent  and  his  Priests  of  the  Mission  had  been,  and 
left  their  confi*aternities  as  memorials  of  their  spiritual 
triumphs,  her  watchful  eye  examined  the  work,  and  her 
ready  hand  ministered  to  its  needs.  At  her  own  cost 
the  labour  of  love  was  fulfilled ;  and  those  who  shared 
her  toils,  also  shared  the  means  which  her  piety  pro- 
vided for  the  journey.  Thus  did  she,  in  company  with 
other  devout  ladies,  and  attended  by  a  servant,  spend 
the  greater  portion  of  each  year ;  and  when  winter  forced 
them  to  return  to  Paris,  she  cared  little  for  the  rest  her 
gentle  frame  and  delicate  health  needed,  but  busied 
herself  among  the  poor  of  the  capital,  and  seemed  to 
derive  strength  from  the  labours  in  which  she  so  largely 
participated. 

Vincent  had  designed  these  confraternities  to  sup- 
ply, in  some  degree,  the  place  of  hospitals ;  and  there- 
fore he  limited  them  at  hrst  to  villages  and  hamlets, 
where  no  such  institutions  existed;  but  his  old  friend 
and  zealous  co-operator,  tlie  Bisliop  of  Beauvais,  seeing 
the  spiritual  good  as  well  as  temporal  relief  wliich  tliey 
afforded,  was  unwilling  to  dejjrive  his  city  of  the 
blessing'^  and  esta])lislied  them  in  each  of  its  eighteen 
parishes.  Not  long  afterwards,  some  pious  ladies  in 
Paris  prevailed  upon  Vincent  to  found  one  in  the  parish 
of  St.  Saviour,  in  which  they  resided.  This  was  in 
1629,  the  yeai'  in  which  Madame  Le  Gras  made  her  first 


CH.  XII.]  MADAME  LE  GRAB. 

visit  to  the  confraternities;  and  upon  her  return  to 
Paris,  slie  called  tog-ether  some  five  or  six  of  her  neigh- 
bours, nnd  united  them  with  liersclf  in  the  care  of  the 
poor  of  their  parish.  Vincent  was  at  that  time  absent 
on  the  mission ;  but  he  quickly  wrote,  upon  hearing  from 
her  respecting"  this  g-ood  work,  recommending-  that  this 
new  confrnternity  should  follow  the  same  rule  as  that 
already  established  at  St.  Saviour's,  adding-  other  suj^-- 
gestions  fitted  to  their  new  sphere  of  action.  The  g-ood 
which  resulted  from  these  new  foundations  speedily 
made  itself  known  throughout  Paris ;  and  before  the 
end  of  1631  nearly  every  parish  in  the  city  and  its 
suburbs  liad  its  confraternity. 

For  thirty  years  did  Madame  Le  Gras  continue  her 
labour  of  love ;  in  spite  of  bodily  suiferings  and  many 
infirmities,  she  was  enabled  through  so  long  a  time  to 
give  herself  entirely  to  the  service  of  the  poor,  not  only 
in  the  work  we  have  just  described,  but  in  that  renowned 
institution  which  sprang  out  of  it ;  or  which  might  per- 
haps be  said  rather  to  be  its  development  and  comple- 
tion. 

We  have  traced  the  beginnings  of  this  great  work, 
we  have  watched  its  early  struggles,  and  the  assistance 
it  derived  in  its  infancy  from  the  gentle  hand  of  this 
apostle  of  charity ;  let  us  now  see  it  in  the  more  perfect 
form  it  took  when  it  grew  up  into  the  Order  of  the 
Sisters  of  Charity. 


m 


-\\r\i 


1    1 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


THE  SISTERS  OF  CHAKITY. 


There  was  an  imperfection  in  these  confrateniities 
whicli  speedily  showed  itself,  and  which  confined  very 
much  their  action.  It  was  not  that  they  failed  to 
answer  the  end  for  which  they  were  formed ;  but  tliere 
was  a  narrow  limit  beyond  which  they  could  not  reach, 
at  least  in  their  orig'inal  shape.  The  rule  required  that 
each  member  should  take  her  turn  in  watchinj^  and  at- 
tending upon  the  sick;  now  as  the  confrateniities  ex- 
tended and  their  numbers  increased,  it  was  found  that 
many  who  became  members  could  not  spare  the  time 
required  for  the  fulfilment  of  their  duties ;  others,  again, 
Lad  no  sldll  for  such  tasks ;  while  some  sent  their  ser- 
vants to  discharge  these  offices,  which  in  their  hands 
ceased  to  be  a  labour  of  love,  and  became  so  much  work 
to  be  done,  and  that  of  no  agreeable  nature.  It  was 
soon  evident,  that  if  the  duties  undertaken  were  to  be 
thdroughly  performed,  if  the  sick  were  to  be  constantly 
and  duly  tended,  })ersons  must  be  found  who  would 
give  themselves  entirely  to  the  work ;  and  who  would 
not,  like  those  who  had  other  occupations,  be  called 
away  from  the  sick-bed,  and  leave  to  less  experienced 
liands  the  painful  and  arduous  task. 

The  first  remedy  which  suggested  itself  was  the 
engagement  of  some  female  servants  for  this  espefial 
office ;  and  Vincent  remembered  that  on  his  missions  lie 
had  frequently  met  with  young  women,  wlio  having  no 
inclination  for  marriage,  and  yet  having  no  vocation  for 
the  religious  state,  seemed  just  fitted  for  an  employ- 
mei:  in  which  they  would  have  the  protection  which 
such  a  position  aftorded,  and  the  freedom  whicli  those 
enjoy  who  are  not  bound  by  vows.  He  promised  to 
bear  this  v/ant  in  mind ;  and  in  the  very  next  mission 


on.  XIII.]  THE  SISTERS  OF  CHARITY. 


05 


which  he  gave,  he  met  with  two  such  persons,  whom 
he  sent  up  to  Paris,  and  phjcecl  in  separate  parishes, 
under  the  direction  of  tiie  ladies  oftlie  confraternities 
of  those  places.  These  were  aftenvards  followed  by 
others,  who  were  likewise  placed  severally  in  different 
parishtiH. 

This  arrnng-ement  did  not  prove  very  successful. 
In  vain  did  Vincent  direct,  and  Madame  Le  Gras  advise 
them,  as  to  how  they  should  conduct  themselves  in  re- 
spect to  the  ladies  and  the  poor ;  there  was  no  unity  or 
action  among*  them ;  they  had  had  no  previous  trainin"- 
for  the  work ;  they  did  not  understand  it,  and  they  did 
not  like  it.  Actuated  hy  no  hig-h  principle,  without  the 
supi)ort  and  counsel  which  a  conmiunity  affoids,  they 
soon  gTcw  weary  of  their  task,  and  g-ave  as  little  satis- 
faction to  others  as  to  themselves.  It  was  soon  evident 
enoug-li  that  this  attempt  would  not  succeed.  Other 
motives  besides  pecuniary  reward  must  uphold  those 
who  are  to  discharg-e  such  offices ;  something*  more  than 
a  wish  to  do  one's  duty  is  needful  in  the  way  of  prepa- 
ration. Vincent  soon  saw  that  a  dilig-ent  and  careful 
training-  was  required ;  and,  above  all,  that  the  exercises 
of  a  spiritual  life  were  needed  to  streng'then  those  who 
would  have  so  much  to  harass  and  distress  them,  living*, 
as  they  would,  in  the  constant  presence  of  sickness  and 
suffering*.  Nature  would  faint  and  grow  weary  under 
such  trials ;  grace  alone  could  conquer  and  ])ersevore. 

It  now  became  clear  what  must  be  done,  that  the 
good  work  might  be  carried  on  effectuall3^  Once  more 
the  ladies  apply  to  Vincent  to  help  them;  and  he,  as 
usual,  places  the  matter  in  the  hands  of  God,  and  awaits 
patiently  the  result.  It  is  not  long*  before  several 
young*  people  ])resent  themselves  for  the  work ;  and  out 
of  these  the  Saint  selected  four,  and  placed  them  under 
the  control  and  instruction  of  Madame  Le  Gras. 

It  was  in  1633  that  the  first  attempt  was  made  to 
deal  systematically  with  the  matter ;  and  not  without 
misgivings  did  Madame  Le  Gras  enter  upon  the  task  she 
had  undertaken.     She  could  not  but  see  the  extreme 


f!  • 


1IJ 


■d' 


r    I 


..•!;? 


^;1 


-l^ 


m 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


difficulty  of  the  work ;  while  the  compfirntive  failures 
whicli  liad  hitlierto  attended  lier  efforts  natunilly  made 
her  most  distrustful  of  this  new  attempt.  However, 
como  what  mig-ht,  the  effort  must  be  made ;  the  want 
was  too  pressing*  to  be  put  aside ;  tlie  g'ood  to  be  gained 
was  too  great  to  be  lost  through  lack  of  energy  or  ])er- 
severance.  So  she  took  heart,  and  began  her  work 
again  with  these  four  young  girls;  and  what  success 
followed  all  know.  The  little  band  grew  into  the 
"  Sisters  of  Charity,"  a  name  as  wide-spread  as  charity 
itself;  dear  to  every  Catholic  heart,  and  respected  even 
by  those  who  are  external  to  the  Church ;  for  does  it  not 
tell  of  self-denying  love,  of  untiring  zeal  in  the  service 
of  the  sick  and  needy,  of  the  truest  and  most  perfect 
fulfilment  of  the  Gospel  precepts  ? 

The  success  which  crowned  the  efforts  of  Madame 
Le  Gras  quickly  showed  itself.  The  urgent  demands  of 
those  about  her  drew  forth  her  youn"*  puj)ils  sooner 
than  she  could  have  wished;  but  such  had  been  her 
zeal  in  the  work,  and  so  great  the  skill  which  directed 
it,  that  those  whom  she  sent  on  the  mission  performed 
their  tasks  so  well,  gave  such  edification  to  those  who 
saw  them,  and  won  such  golden  opinions  from  all  sorts 
of  men,  that  numbers  desired  to  follow  in  their  foot- 
steps; and  Madame  Le  Gras  was  overwhelmed  with  ap- 
plications for  admission  to  her  house.  Kor  was  tlieir 
success  to  be  wondered  at,  trained  as  they  had  been 
by  one  who  understood  the  work  so  well.  How  skilful 
were  they  as  nurses,  how  gentle  and  patient  in  bearing 
with  the  fretfulness  and  exactions  of  the  sick,  how  exact 
in  obeying'  the  directions  of  physicians,  how  ready  to 
sooth  and  console  with  the  words  of  divine  wisdom  ! 
No  wonder  tliat  the  sufferer  grew  calm  in  the  presence 
of  one  so'  mild  and  tender  as  the  Sister  of  Charity ;  no 
wonder  that  holy  words  told  so  effectually  when  they 
were  enforced  and  illustrated  by  such  charity  and  zeal. 
It  was  but  natural  that  the  pli3'sicians  should  proclaim 
their  skill,  that  jjriests  should  commend  their  piety,  and 
^hat  the  sick  should  esteem  them  as  guardian-angels, 


CH.  XIII.]        THE  8I8TERS  OF  CHARITY. 

and  attribute  tli(.'ir  cure  more  to  their  care  and  .nlnis- 
trutioiis  tliiiu  to  all  that  scit'iice  could  achievo  for  them. 
It  was  the  determination  of  Madame  Le  Gras  not  to 
limit  tlie  services  of  her  commimity  to  any  one  pnri-li 
or  locality.  Like  tlie  divine  charity  "wliose  name  they 
horo  and  whoso  inrccpts  tlicy  fidHlled,  they  were  scat- 
tered I'ar  and  wide  throug'hout  the  city ;  wherever  they 
were  most  needed,  there  were  they  to  be  ibund ;  and 
none  could  know  better  tluin  their  superior  where  tliey 
could  be  most  useful,  foi  she  it  was  wiio  ])resided  over 
all  the  confraternities  of  charity  in  the  metropolis. 

The  g-rowth  of  the  institution  was  rapid  beyond  ex- 
ample. On  every  side  there  was  a  call  for  aid;  and  as 
fast  as  the  sisters  could  be  trained  and  sent  out,  others 
offered  themselves  to  supply  their  places.  During-  the 
life  of  Vincent  de  Paul  not  less  than  twenty- eight 
houses  of  tlie  Sisters  of  Charity  were  founded  in  Paris 
alone;  while  far  and  wide  the  good  work  spread, — 
througli  tlie  whohi  of  France,  into  Lorraine,  ana  even  as 
far  as  Poland,  where  the  zeal  and  charity  of  the  fpieen 
planted  and  sup[)orted  them.  As  time  went  on,  and 
the  order  took  firmer  root,  its  charity  embraced  a  wider 
range;  and  those  who  had  at  first  limited  their  care  and 
attention  to  the  sick  poor  of  different  parishes,  now 
took  the  widow  and  orphan  imder  their  charge,  and 
neglected  not  the  infirm  and  wounded  soldier.  Vincent 
gave  them  a  fresh  occupation  when  he  intrusted  to 
them  the  education  of  the  foundlings  and  of  poor  young- 
girls;  and  again,  when  he  called  them  to  the  chiirge 
of  sevei'al  hospitals  and  of  sick  convicts.  These  varied 
occupations  naturally  divided  the  body  into  different 
congregations,  each  of  which  had  its  more  especial  task 
to  fulfil;  although  they  still  continued  under  one  gene- 
ral rule,  with  particular  regulations  suited  for  particular 
duties. 

It  was  Vincent's  practice  to  give  at  first  only  gene- 
ral directions  to  the  bodies  he  organised;  and  when  ex- 
perience had  tested  these,  to  draw  up  fuller  rules.  Ft 
was  so  v/itli  his  own  order :  the  laws  which  governed  it 

H 


■i  •- 


-f.    i  «•! 


ifc^^T" 


08 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAJL. 


grow  up  from  time  to  time,  as  occ:„um  siig'gTst(^(l  and 
as  necessity  required;  and  so,  after  many  years,  when 
the  formal  code  of  rules  was  given  bv  the  Saint,  it 
was  found  to  contain  little  more  than  what  was  already 
in  force.  Every  thing*  had  thus  been  tested  before- 
hand, and  so,  without  anxiety  or  misg-iving",  he  could 
bind  his  community  to  the  observance  of  what  had  al- 
ready answered  so  well  and  had  the  sanction  of  time 
and  experience.  The  same  course  was  pursued  in  re- 
S|)ect  to  tlie  Sisters  of  Charity :  thus  the  institution 
existed  for  some  vears  without  a  formal  code  of  laws; 
but  during"  tlie  wLole  of  that  time  the  rule  was  gTow- 
jng"  up  into  full  proportions.  Without  staying*  to  exa- 
mine in  detiiil  the  g'eneral  principles  on  wliich  tlu;  insti- 
tution was  based,  or  tlie  more  precise  rules  b^  which 
they  Avere  carried  out,  it  may  be  well  to  notic^^  one  or 
two  of  those  cliief  points  which  Vincent  was  most  anxi- 
ous to  impress  upon  all  who  were  called  to  this  diitcult 
and  arduous  work. 

They  were  never  to  lose  sight  of  the  one  great  end 
of  their  institution,  which  wts,  to  honour  and  serve  our 
Lord  in  the  persons  of  the  poor,  the  sick,  the  afilicted, 
and  the  unfortunate. 

They  wei-e  to  render  to  these  all  the  spiritual  and 
cor[)orai  assistance  in  their  power ;  and  to  do  this  most 
eifectually,  they  were  to  sanctify  tliemselves  as  much 
as  ])ossibie,  by  uniting'  with  outward  acts  of  charity  the 
interior  exercises  of  a  spiritual  life. 

He  reminded  them  that  they  were  not,  and  that 
they  never  could  become  Religious  in  the  strict  sense  of 
the  word;  tlieir  employment  forbade  this.  They  were  of 
necessity  thrown  into  intercourse  with  the  world ;  and  if 
they  would  [)ass  in  safety  through  this  severe  ordeal,  they 
must  live  as  perfect  a  life  as  the  most  holy  religious  in 
their  convents.  To  use  the  Saint's  own  touching  lan- 
guage, '^  Their  convent  must  be  the  houses  of  the  sick, 
their  cell  the  cliamber  of  suffering,  their  chapel  the 
parish-church,  their  cloister  the  streets  of  the  city  op 
the  wards  of  hospitals;  in  place  of  the  rule  which  binds 


CH.  XIII.]  TlIK  8ISTKUS  OF  CUAltlTV.  00 

nuns  to  tlie  one  enclosure,  there  nuist  l)e  tim  jjivnt'iiil 
vow  of  obedicmce,  the  g'riite  tlirouf;!!  wliich  they  M|teHk 
to  others  must  bo  tlie  fear  of  God,  tlie  veil  ^vhich  slnits 
out  the  worhl  must  ])e  lioly  modesty." 

They  are  to  puss  fi-eely  from  phrco  to  phiee,  niid  often 
must  thev  he  thrown  into  scenes  of  danj^er  and  tuniptu- 
tion.  what  circumspection  is  needed  amid  such  trials, 
what  divine  succour  to  g-uido  and  guard  their  steps! 
Tliey  are  exhorted  to  live  ever  as  in  the  immediate  j)re- 
sence  of  God,  and  so  to  conduct  themselves  that  the 
slig'htest  whisper  may  never  ho  breathed  against  them. 
No  familiarities  are  to  bo  permitted  even  among  them- 
selves ;  all  cliildish  and  foolish  sport  or  conversation  is 
forbidden  in  recreation  at  home,  and  every  precaution 
is  to  be  redoubled  when  they  go  into  the  v^orld  on  their 
mission  of  charity.  Ere  they  set  forth,  they  are  to  seek 
the  divine  protection  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross;  and  when 
they  return,  they  are  to  give  thanks  for  the  mercy  which 
watched  over  them. 

Their  life  was  to  be  one  of  self-denial  and  great 
strictness.  They  were  to  rise  daily  at  four;  twice  a 
day  they  were  to  spend  a  considerable  time  in  mental 
prayer ;  their  food  was  to  be  the  plainest,  and  wine  was 
to  be  used  only  in  cases  of  sickness.  Each  was  to  take 
her  turn  in  watching  the  sick  for  a  whole  night,  and  to 
assist  in  the  meanest  and  most  repulsive  offices.  They 
must  not  shrink  from  infection,  nor  from  scenes  of 
misery  and  suffering;  and  when  the  hour  of  death 
shoula  come,  they  were  to  assist  their  patients  in  their 
agony  with  the  tenderest  offices  of  cliarity. 

Such  was  the  rule  two  centuries  ago;  and  such  is  it 
still.  The  holy  discipline  which  trained  the  first  Sisters 
of  Charity  unaer  Madame  Le  Gras  guides  them  now  that 
they  have  spread  from  land  to  land,  and  the  fruit  of 
that  discipline  astonishes  and  delights  all  who  come 
within  its  influence.  The  modern  traveller  notes  it  in 
his  journal  with  as  much  wonder  and  admiration  as 
those  who,  in  Vincent's  day,  first  witnessed  its  effects. 

From  time  to  time  Vincent  gave  spiritual  instruc- 


% 


!  '■  ,  1 


m 


I     .i 


;i 


.! 


100 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


tions  to  thoso  young"  missionaries ;  and  as  tliey  were 
fm|iu'ntiy  required  to  teach  others,  he  called  upon 
thcin  to  explain  the  Christian  doctrine,  and  thoso  mat- 
ters v/hich  mi<>'ht  be  needed  liesido  the  bed  of  death,  or 
which  they  had  to  instil  into  the  youthtul  minds  of* 
thoire  committed  to  their  char^<'.  And  while  the  sis- 
ters, each  in  her  turn,  spoke  as  they  were  accustomed 
to  do  to  the  sick  and  dyinij;*,  or  adaptiul  to  the  infant 
mind  the  great  truths  tlu^y  had  to  convey,  the  litmrt  of 
oui*  Saint  would  warm  with  devotion,  and  his  eyes  would 
beam  with  delig-ht,  as  he  lieard  the  words  of  truth  fall 
so  sweetly  and  with  such  touching  elocpience  from  the 
lips  of  those  whom  lie  had  so  well  prepared  for  their 
holy  work. 

Vincent  had  forbidden  his  order  to  undertake  the 
spiritual  direction  of  nuns;  but  he  felt  it  rig'ht  to  make 
an  exception,  if  such  it  can  be  called,  in  favour  of  the 
Sisters  of  Charity.  The  two  orders  were  so  closely 
united  in  the  mission  assi^ed  to  them,  and  in  their 
common  founder,  that  it  seemed  but  natural  that  they 
should  follow  the  same  direction.  Nevertheless,  so 
careful  was  Vincent  to  avoid  even  the  appearance  of 
too  close  an  intimacy,  that  he  forbade  the  missionaries  to 
visit  the  sisters  without  express  permission,  and  carried 
out  this  rule  most  strictly  in  his  own  conduct,  never 
seeing*  Madame  Le  Gras  but  upon  some  pressing  neces- 
sity. 


101 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


TUB  IIOTEL-UIKC. 


The  name  of  Madame  Le  Gras  docs  not  stand  alone  In 
tlie  annals  of  this  gT(;at  work  of  charitv.  Hank  and 
biuiuty  had  another  otiering*  to  make.  There  was  one 
who  amid  the  hi<''h  circles  of  Paris  occupied  a  promi- 
nent place,  and  whose  beauty,  talents,  antf  wealtli  drew 
around  her  the  g-reat  and  noble.  She  was  a  young- 
widow,  g-raced  with  every  attraction  which  could  charm 
the  eye  and  win  the  heart ;  and  so,  as  might  be  natu- 
rally supposed,  the  liimd  of  Madame  la  Presidento  de 
Goussault  was  sought  in  marriage  by  muny  who  could 
offer  her  the  highest  rank  and  the  most  l)rilliant  })osi- 
tion.  But  none  of  these  could  draw  I'rom  a  holier 
purpose  the  illustrious  lady  who  had  determined  to 
leave  a  world  which  set  so  Iiigh  a  value  on  her,  and  to 
give  herself  and  all  she  possessed  to  the  service  of  God 
in  Ilis  poor.  She  devoted  herself  to  one  especial  task; 
and  by  her  zeal  she  broug-ht  others  round  her,  who, 
under  her  direction,  can-ied  into  effect  one  of  the 
noblest  works  of  charity  which  Vincent  ever  undertook. 
There  was  a  larg-e  hospital  at  Paris,  bearing  the 
name  of  the  H6tel-Dieu,  which,  while  it  ministered  to 
the  temporal  sufferings  of  the  crowds  within  it,  neg- 
lected sadly  the  spiritual  maladies  of  its  inmates.  It 
seems  to  have  had  an  efficient  medical  staff';  but  was 
poor  enough  in  its  array  of  chai)lains.  There  was  a 
})retence  of  spiritual  care,  which  was,  perhaps,  worse 
than  total  neg-lect ;  for  in  the  latter  case  there  wor.ld 
have  been  not  only  an  urg-ent  call  for  a  remedy,  but  an 
easy  access  to  .T,ny  who  broug-ht  what  was  altogether 
wanting- ;  but  as  matters  stood,  there  was  a  difficulty  in 
the  way  of  introducing  what  seemed  already  provided 


t     ■; 


102 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


for,  while  the  fear  of  giving  offence  to  those  to  whom 
was  intrusted  the  spiritual  charge,  naturally  deterred 
others  from  offering"  assistance  which  would  appear  to 
condemn  the  neglect  which  had  made  such  assistance 
needful. 

This  hospital  had  attracted  the  especial  attention 
of  Madame  de  Goussault ;  she  had  frequently  visited  its 
extensive  wards,  her  liberal  hands  had  ministered  to 
the  wants  of  its  suffering  inmates,  while  her  heart  had 
as  often  grieved  over  the  neglect  with  which  their  souls 
were  treated.  At  length  she  addressed  herself  to  Vin- 
cent ;  but  so  delicate  did  he  feel  the  task  to  be,  that  for 
some  time  he  resisted  her  earnest  entreaties ;  and  it  was 
not  until  he  had  received  the  express  command  of  the 
Archbishop,  that  he  consented  to  take  the  matter  in 
hand.  Then,  with  the  zealous  co-operation  of  this 
noble  lady,  he  set  resolutely  to  work ;  and  it  was  not 
long  ere  he  had  corrected  the  crying  evil,  and  made 
that  magnificent  institution  as  perfect  in  its  spiritual 
organisation  as  it  had  before  been  in  its  temporal 
arrangements. 

Madame  de  Goussault  invited  some  ladies  of  high 
rank  to  meet  at  her  house,  and  to  them  Vincent  addressed 
an  earnest  exhortation  to  take  this  enterprise  in  hand. 
On  a  subsequent  day  a  second  meeting  was  held,  at 
which  others  attended ;  and  the  work  was  at  once  en- 
tered upon,  Vincent  becoming  the  director  of  the  body. 
Ere  long  the  attention  of  many  ladies  of  the  highest 
rank  was  drawn  to  their  proceedings ;  and  the  contagion 
of  good  example  spread  so  wide,  that  upwards  of  two 
hundred  names  of  countesses,  marchionesses,  duchesses, 
and  princesses  were  enrolled  upon  the  list  of  those  who 
took  part  in  this  labour  of  love,  and  who  ministered 
with  their  own  hands  to  the  sick  in  the  hospital.  It 
was  in  1(534  that  the  work  began.  Their  first  care  was 
to  pi'ovide  support  and  comfort  beyond  what  the  insti- 
tution itself  furnished;  and  this  of  itself  must  have  been 
no  small  labour  and  expense,  when  we  consider  the  mul- 
titudes who  were  received  into  the  hospital :  never  less 


CH.  XIV.]  THE  h6teL-DIEU.  103 

than  a  thousand  beds  were  occupied,  and  sometimes  the 
number  was  double.  It  was  a  fluctuating  population ; 
a  large  proportion  left  every  day,  whose  places  were  as 
constantly  supplied  oy  fresh  applicants :  fifty,  sixty, 
sometimes  even  a  hundred  would  enter  in  a  single  day  j 
and  these  would  remain  for  eighr^r  ten  days,  or  per- 
haps for  a  month.  Thus  in  a  single  year  as  many  as 
twenty-five  thousand  would  pass  through  its  wards, 
some  to  the  world  again,  and  some  to  death.  What  a 
harvest  of  souls  was  here  !  what  innumerable  opportu- 
nities of  calling  sinners  to  lepentance,  of  strengthening 
the  weak,  of  healing  and  fortifying  with  blessed  sacra- 
ments, and  of  preparing  for  death  those  who  had  neg- 
lected their  rehgious  duties !  A  holy  instinct  had  led 
these  pious  ladies  to  this  spot :  we  must  now  see  how 
successfully  they  fulfilled  the  difficult  mission  to  which 
they  were  called. 

Vincent's  prudence  and  skill  were  tried  to  the  utter- 
most in  obtaining  admission  for  the  ladies  fi'om  the 
authorities  of  the  hospital.  It  was  true  that  he  had 
the  sanction  of  the  Archbishop  of  Paris ;  but  he  well 
knew,  that  unless  he  could  gain  the  good-will  of  those 
in  power,  the  zeal  and  labour  of  the  society  would 
produce  but  little  fruit.  He  therefore  made  it  a 
point  to  put  them  under  the  constituted  authorities, 
directing  them,  whenever  they  visited  the  hospital, 
to  present  themselves  to  the  nuns  who  had  the  charge 
of  it,  and  to  offer  their  services  to  assist  them,  that 
they  might  have  a  share  in  their  good  works.  He  re- 
quired them  to  treat  these  sisters  with  all  possible 
respect  and  attention,  and  to  obey  them  implicitly  in 
all  things;  and  when  their  services  were  not  appre- 
ciated, they  were  to  make  excuses  for  the  opposition 
they  encountered,  and  never  to  annoy  or  oppose 
them.  Acting  upon  these  wise  instructions,  it  was 
not  long  before  all  jealousy  and  ill-will  disappeared. 
The  nuns  who  had  charge  of  the  patients  rejoiced  at 
the  assistance  thus  given  them,  and  all  combined  in  the 
same  good  work ;  the  otily  emulation  being  that  each 


si^ 


r\ 


5 


^i' 


J     s 


\'i 


i  i 


104 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


endeavoured  to  excel  the  others  in  fulfilling  her  ap- 
pointed task. 

Their  chief  care  was  the  comfort  and  consolation  of 
the  sick.  From  ward  to  ward,  from  bed  to  bed,  the 
noble  ladies  passed,  speakmg*  in  g'entlest  tones  and  in 
the  most  winning  manner  of  the  advantage  of  bearing 
sickness  patiently,  and  of  Him  who  watches  over  ana 
cares  for  all.  But  they  would  not  go  empty-handed ; 
the  suiFerings  they  witnessed,  the  many  little  wants 
they  noticed,  naturally  led  them  to  bring  with  them 
those  small  but  highly-prized  delicacies  which  the  sick 
require.  They  soon  found  it  necessary  to  systematise 
this  relief,  and  tl.ey  accordingly  hired  a  room  near  the 
hospital,  where  they  prepared  what  v  as  most  wanted. 
There  they  placed  some  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  to 
dress  the  food,  and  to  assist  in  the  distribution  of  it. 
In  this  way  tlie}'^  provided  a  morning  meal  of  milk ;  but 
in  time  this  was  rendered  unnecessary  by  the  autliorities 
undertaking  to  supply  it.  In  the  afternoon  they  brought 
some  slight  but  nourishing  refresliment,  such  as  would 
tempt  the  aj)petite  of  the  delicate,  and  bring  a  feeling 
of  comfort  to  minds  whicli,  in  so  vast  an  establishment, 
must  of  necessity  have  felt  lonely.  Oranges,  biscuits, 
jellies,  and  such-like  things,  if  they  did  no  other  good,  at 
least  spoke  of  care  and  love,  and  of  that  sympathy  which 
is  more  prized  than  all.  And  if  such  triiies  as  these  served 
to  open  a  heart  which  suffering  and  neglect  had  closed  to 
holy  influences,  if  they  prepared  the  way  for  the  word 
in  season,  who  shall  estimate  their  full  value  ?  He  who 
despised  not  the  cup  of  cold  water  given  in  His  name 
and  for  His  sake  blessed  these  simple  means,  and  poor 
sufferers  learnt  to  lend  a  willing  ear  to  those  who 
thus  showed  a  tender  commiseration  for  their  griefs. 
To  those  of  their  own  sex  the  ladies  had  an  especial 
mission ;  they  instructed  the  ignoi-ant,  and  prepsn-ed  all 
for  confession ;  they  inspired  them  with  good  resolu- 
tions, whether  for  life  or  death. 

In  this  diflicult  task  Vincent  was  their  guide.    Lest 
they  should  seem  to  go  beyond  their  province,  and  to 


*v 


THE  h6tEL-DIEU. 


105 


CH.  XIV.] 

usurp  ecclesiastical  functions,  he  prepared  for  them  a 
book  out  of  which  they  were  to  read  the  instructions 
they  were  to  convey.  They  were  not  to  preach,  but  to 
reaS.  How  careful  he  was  to  guard  them  against  all 
danger  and  to  remove  whatever  miglit  be  an  impedi- 
ment in  their  way,  and  how  well  he  understood  the  in- 
fluence of  little  thing's,  appear  as  well  from  the  rule 
just  mentioned  as  from  others  he  laid  down  for  their 
guidance ;  as,  for  instance,  when  he  requires  these  noble 
and  high-born  dames  to  dress  themselves  in  all  sim- 
plicity and  plainness  whenever  they  visited  the  hospital, 
to  tlie  end,  as  he  says,  "  that  if  they  come  not  as  poor 
to  the  poor,  they  may  at  least  lay  aside  all  vanity  and 
luxury  of  dress,  so  as  not  to  give  pain  to  the  sick  poor, 
who  commonly  feel  their  own  wants  most  keenly  in 
the  presence  of  excess  and  superfluity."  What  deep 
knowledge  of  human  nature  is  here,  and  what  ten- 
derest  consideration  for  the  afilicted !  So,  again,  he 
exhorts  them  to  use  all  affability  and  gentleness, 
lest  an  appearance  of  patronage  and  condescension 
should  mar  the  good  work.  But  they  were  too 
truly  noble  to  fall  into  this  error  of  little  minds ;  they 
respected  the  poor,  and  honoured  those  who,  in  suf- 
fering at  least,  were  like  their  Lord;  and  thus  they 
fulfilled  their  holy  mission,  and  did  more  than  mere 
authority  could  do, — they  won  a  ready  obedience  to 
their  wishes,  and  were  loved  as  much  as  they  vv^^^e 
respected. 

About  two  years  after  the  establishment  of  this 
society  Vincent  divided  it  into  two  parts  ;  one  of  which 
devoted  itself  to  the  corporal  wants  of  the  sick,  while 
the  other  occupied  itself  entirely  with  their  spiritual 
needs.  By  this  arrangement,  each  person  had  that 
work  assig-ned  to  her  for  which  she  was  best  fitted,  and 
two  difl'erent  offices  were  kept  apart  which  it  is  so  diffi- 
cult to  combine  effectively.  For  three  months  the  same 
ladies  continued  the  work  of  visiting  and  instructing 
the  sick  daily ;  and  then  tliey  resigned  their  office  to 
others,  giving  at  that  time  an  account  of  what  they 


^*. 


% 


6  -t 


in 


I 


5       t 


r 


106 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


'J!' 


bad  done,  that  those  who  succeeded  them  mig'ht  profit 
by  their  experience.  On  these  occasions  Vincent  would 
be  present,  and  give  such  advice  and  directions  as  he 
thought  needful.  Of  course  the  instructions  g-iven  by 
the  ladies  could  be  but  preparatory,  and  so  priests  were 
necessary  to  complete  the  work.  To  this  end  they  en- 
g-ag-ed  two  chaplains;  and  as  the  duties  soon  became 
too  arduous  for  so  small  a  number,  they  increased  this 
body  to  six,  who  were  to  devote  themselves  entirely  to 
the  care  of  the  sick,  in  hearing"  the  confessions  ot  all, 
and  in  instructing'  the  men.  By  this  arrang-ement 
every  one  was  duly  prepared  for  making-  a  g-eneral  con- 
fession, whereas  previously  the  practice  had  been  to 
hear  the  confessions  of  the  sick  only  at  their  first  en- 
trance into  the  hospital,  when  they  were  too  generally 
but  ill  prepared  j  while  it  happened  not  unfrequently 
that  heretics  were  broug-ht  in  who,  not  liking*  to  tell 
the  truth,  made  sacrilegious  confessions,  and  passed  for 
Catholics.  But  now,  under  Vincent's  rule  ana  the  care 
of  these  g'ood  ladies,  thing's  assumed  a  different  ap- 
pearance. Catholics  were  duly  prepared  for  the  sacra- 
ments; and  heretics,  impressed  by  what  they  saw  around 
them,  and  moved  by  God's  grace,  declared  their  real 
state,  consented  to  receive  instruction,  and  in  number- 
less cases  were  restored  to  the  Church.  In  the  very 
first  year  not  less  than  760  wanderers  were  thus  brought 
home  to  the  one  fold. 

The  sum  of  money  expended  in  the  relief  of  the 
sick  by  these  ladies  was  not  less  than  400/.  a  year.  But 
g-reat  as  is  this  amount,  it  sinks  into  insignificance  when 
compared  with  the  mighty  work  of  chaiity  they  after- 
wards took  in  hand,  when,  under  Vincent's  direction, 
they  ministered  to  the  wants  of  whole  provinces,  and 
extended  far  and  wide  the  succour  which  at  first  had 
been  limited  to  the  walls  of  the  H6tel-Dieu.  In  consi- 
dering-, however,  this  truly  gigantic  design,  let  us  not 
forget,  in  our  admiration  of  its  splendour,  the  earlier 
but  not  less  perfect  work  which  owed  its  origin  to  the 
charity  of  these  noble  ladies,  and  wliich  made  the  great 


CH.  XIV.] 


THE  ndTEL-DIBU. 


hospital  of  Paris  worthy  of  the  name  it  bore.  But  be- 
fore we  speak  of  this  great  and  extensive  work,  we 
must  say  sometliing*  of  an  undertaking  which  preceded 
it  in  time,  and  which  sprang  up  under  the  influence  of 
Vincent's  seal,  and  was  carried  out  by  the  devotion  and 
energy  of  these  same  ladies. 


«*^' 


108 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  FOUNDLING  HOSPITAL. 

There  are  few  institutions  in  Paris  which  excite  more 
admiration  in  strangers  than  the  Foundling"  Asylum, 
the  Hospice  des  Enfans  trouves,  in  the  Rue  d'En- 
fer.  No  one  can  visit  it  without  being-  moved  with 
feelings  of  love  and  veneration  for  St.  Vincent  de  Paul, 
whose  work  it  is ;  and  when  we  call  to  mind  the  diffi- 
culties he  had  to  encounter  in  first  establishing  it,  and 
the  still  greater  trials  which  threatened  its  very  exist- 
ence while  it  was  yet  young,  we  shall  indeed  acknow- 
ledge that  it  is  ilis  work  who  taught  His  servant  to 
say,  *'  When  my  father  and  mother  forsook  me,  the 
Lord  took  me  up." 

Let  us  trace  up  this  noble  institution  to  its  source 
in  the  charity  of  Vincent.  Nothing  could  be  more  de- 
plorable than  the  state  of  the  poor  foundlings  of  Paris 
when  they  first  attracted  the  attention  of  our  Saint. 
Not  less  than  three  or  four  hundred  children  were 
yearly  left  exposed  by  their  parents  in  the  public  streets ; 
and  what  does  the  reader  think  was  the  provision  made 
by  the  government  of  that  day  for  these  little  outcasts 
of  society?  It  sounds  well  when  we  hear  that  a  police- 
regulation  required  that  every  child  thus  found  should 
be  taken  by  certain  officers  to  a  house  appointed  for 
their  reception ;  but  if  we  follow  these  officers  to  La 
Couche,  in  the  Rue  St.  La~idry,  what  preparations  do  we 
find  for  the  nurture  and  care  of  this  crowd  of  heli)less 
infants  ?  A  widow,  with  two  or  three  servants ;  and 
these  so  miserably  paid,  that  the  barest  necessities  of 
life  cannot  be  obtained  for  those  who  need  the  most 
delicate  attention  and  care !  There  are  no  wet-nurses 
for  the  youngest,  no  fitting  food  for  those  who  have 
been  weaned.     It  naturally  followed,  that  the  greater 


E 


CH.  XV.]  THE  FOUNDLING  HOSPITAL.  109 

art  died  almost  immediately ;  while  most  of  those  who 
ing'ered  on  in  a  sickly  existence  were  quieted  in  their 
pains,  and  in  the  end  silenced  for  ever,  by  narcotics, 
which  were  given  them  by  their  ruthless  g-uardians. 
Well  was  it  for  those  who  died  thus ;  for  they  thereby 
escaped  a  harder  and  more  cruel  fate.  Humanity 
shudders  when  it  thinks  of  the  lot  of  those  who  were 
given  away,  or  sold  for  a  few  pence,  to  any  who  would 
take  them  from  a  place  which  it  sounds  like  mockery 
to  call  their  home.  Some  were  hired  to  suck  the  milk 
from  diseased  breasts,  who  thus  with  their  nurture 
drew  in  dea^^U ;  while  others — hon-ible  to  I'elate — were 
bought  as  victims  for  diabolic  art,  and  ministered  with 
thm-  blood  to  the  requirements  of  those  who  soug-ht 
therein  restoration  to  health  and  a  revival  of  the 
powers  which  sin  and  excess  had  corrupted  and  de- 
stroyed. The  bath  of  infants'  blood  is  no  mere  classic 
dream  j  for  the  seventeenth  century  saw  revived  (if  they 
had  ever  really  ceased)  the  mystic  charms  and  satanic 
remedies  which  heathenism  had  used.  And  while  the 
bodies  of  these  little  ones  were  thus  neg'lected  and  suf- 
fered to  perish,  none  cared  for  their  souls.  The  miser- 
able creature  who  had  the  nominal  care  of  them  herself 
confessed  that  she  had  never  baj)tised  one,  nor  did  she 
know  of  a  singie  case  in  which  that  blessed  sacrament 
had  been  administered !  And  yet  three  or  four  hundred 
yearly  entered  her  house. 

This  gig-antic  evil  crossed  Vincent's  path :  his  tender 
heart  recoiled  in  horror  fiom  cruelty  so  great  and  from 
neglect  so  terrible.  To  pass  it  with  an  exclamation  of 
surprise  or  disgust,  to  droj)  over  it  a  tear  of  sorrow,  and 
thus  to  leave  it,  was  not  his  way.  His  was  an  active 
charity,  which  shrank  from  no  diificidty,  and  knew  not 
the  word  "  impossible."  Yet  was  he  prudent  and  cau- 
tious in  what  he  undertook.  He  did  nothing*  on  im- 
pulse ;  and  so  he  never  gave  up  what  he  once  began. ' 
Thus,  in  this  case  as  in  others,  he  considered  long  and 
carefully  what  he  should  do;  he  weighed  his  means 
against  the  requirements,  and  found  that  he  must  begin 


^  :vJ  I 


110 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


in  a  small  way.  He  called  in  the  aid  of  the  g'ood  ladies 
of  the  H6tel-Dieu,  and  sent  them  to  examine  the  state 
of  "  La  Couche."  'iMiey  went,  and  saw  what  has  been 
related.  Wliat  lang-uag-e  could  express  their  astonish- 
ment and  distress  at  the  spectacle  which  there  j)re- 
sented  itself!  How  can  they  meet  so  great  a  claim 
u{)on  their  charity  ?  how  cope  with  so  overwhelming' 
an  evil '}  Under  Vincent's  advice,  they  agree  to  select 
by  lot  twelve  of  these  poor  creatures,  and  place  them 
in  a  house  near  the  gate  of  St.  Victor.  Madame  Le  Gras 
and  her  Sisters  of  Cliarity  undertook  the  immediate 
charge  of  them,  and  wet-nurses  were  provided. 

It  was  in  1038  that  tliis  first  step  was  taken,  and 
gradually  the  number  thus  selecteu  was  augmented  as 
the  means  for  their  support  increased;  and  the  contrast 
between  those  who  had  been  thus  taken  and  those  who 
were  left  behind  moved  the  hearts  of  tl>ese  generous 
ladies  to  make  greater  sacrifices  in  their  behalf.  Thus 
matters  went  on  for  two  years;  at  the  end  of  which 
time,  in  1040,  Vincent  called  these  ladies  tog-ether,  and 
laid  before  them  a  design  for  completing'  the  work  by 
taking'  charge  of  all  these  foundlings. 

It  was  an  arduous  and  costly  task;  and  his  prudence 
would  not  suffer  him  to  do  more  than  urge  them  to  make 
trial  of  their  strength  and  means.  All  he  wished  them 
to  do  was  to  make  an  experiment.  If  their  resources 
would  not  suffice,  they  must  give  it  up ;  in  the  meantime 
he  would  try  what  he  could  do  for  them. 

He  was  a  man  of  business,  and  sat  down  to  count 
the  cost  of  the  enterprise ;  and  this  was  the  pecuniary 
view  of  the  case.  The  ladies  had  no  more  than  70/.  of 
fixed  income  which  they  could  devote  to  tliis  work :  at 
Vincent's  request,  the  queen  regent,  Anne  of  Austria,  ever 
forward  in  works  of  charity,  gave  an  annual  grant  of 
GOO/, ;  and  to  this  our  Saint  added  all  that  he  could  spare 
from  the  resources  of  St.  Lazarus  and  from  the  funds  which 
the  charitable  placed  at  his  disposal.  After  all,  there  was 
a  large  additional  sum  requirea  to  meet  the  necessary  ex- 
penditure, which  was  certainly  not  less  than  2,000/.  a  year. 


CH.  XV.]  THE  FOUNDLING  HOSPITAL.  Ill 

Nobly  did  they  strug-g'le  on  against  all  difficulties  for 
some  years;  every  i  .wo  seemed  strained,  every  powe)' 
taxed  to  the  uttermost,  to  carry  on  the  undertaking 
and  to  preserve  the  poor  deserted  ones  from  tlie  fute 
which  awaited  them  should  they  have  to  return  to  tlieir 
old  quarters.  But  now  difficulties  increase :  national 
distress  shows  itself  on  all  sides,  the  curse  of  faction 
once  more  comes  over  the  land,  sin  and  misery  rise  to- 
g-ether in  greater  force  than  ever ;  and  so  the  demands 
upon  this  especial  charity  augment  with  its  increa sing- 
poverty.  Moreover,  the  famine  which  at  this  time  af- 
flicted the  province  of  Lorraine  called  for  unexampled 
relief;  and  those  who  had  burdened  themselves  with  the 
charge  of  the  foundlings  are  now  foremost  in  aiding  the 
efforts  which  ^'incentis  making  for  the  support  of  thou- 
sands of  their  starving  countrymen. 

Can  we  wonder  if  at  such  a  time  the  hearts  of  these 
noble  women  should  despond,  and  that  their  resolution 
respecting*  the  orphans  should  falter/  Common  pru- 
dence seemed  to  urge  them  to  consolidate  their  enei-gies 
on  the  more  pressing  need,  and  to  give  up,  at  least  for 
a  time,  what,  after  all,  had  been  undertaken  only  as 
an  experiment.  Such  was  the  state  of  affairs  in  1(348, 
when  Vincent  took  his  resolution,  and  called  once  more 
around  him  those  liberal  souls  who  were  doing  so 
much. 

The  general  meeting  is  held ;  Vincent  is  there,  and 
in  the  crowd  of  those  present  we  may  observe  Madame 
Le  Gras,  as  well  as  Madame  de  Goussault.  Every  heart 
beats  high  with  anxiety — for  what  will  Vincer.t  advise? 
He  is  so  cautious,  so  prudent,  that,  it  may  be,  the  more 
enthusiastic  are  half-inclined  to  condemn  his  counsel 
beforehand ;  while  those  who  have  more  calmly  weighed 
the  matter  in  hand  sigh  as  they  feel  the  necessity  of 
drawing  back  from  what  seems  a  hopeless  task.  At 
any  rate  there  is  this  consolation,  that  they  have  done 
their  best;  and  that,  had  not  these  national  calamities 
come  so  unexpectedly  upon  them,  they  might  still  have 
persevered.    It  is  painful,  indeed,  to  draw  back;  but  is 


, 't 


m 


•  mm 

Mi 


112 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


it  not  madness  to  g-o  on?  Thus  they  thoug-ht;  and 
therefore  their  liearts  were  sad,  and  many  a  brig-ht  eye 
was  dimmed  with  tears  for  those  whom  they  were 
about  to  abandon. 

But  what  thinks  Vincent  all  this  while  ?  It  may 
be  that  their  own  thoug-hts  occupy  them  too  exclu- 
sively, or  those  ladies  mig-ht  have  marked  a  determi- 
nation about  the  Saint's  brow,  and  a  sweet  expression 
of  ardent  charity  in  tliose  benig'nant  eyes,  which  would 
in  part  have  revealed  the  purpose  witliin  his  mind. 

And  now  Vincent  rises ;  and  in  breathless  silence 
they  listen  to  the  words  of  their  sag-e  counsellor,  while 
he  weighs  the  momentous  question,  whether  they  shall 
continue  or  g-ive  up  the  charg-e  of  the  poor  foundlings. 
Calmly  and  impartially  does  he  set  forth  the  reasons 
on  both  sides.  He  reminds  them  that  it  is  only  an 
experiment  they  have  been  making",  and  that  conse- 
quently they  are  not  bound  by  any  oblig-ation  to  con- 
tinue it.  But  then  he  fails  not  also  to  call  to  their  re- 
membrance the  fruit  of  their  labours ;  how  live  or  six 
hundred  infants  have  been  snatclied  from  the  hands  of 
death,  many  of  whom  have  learnt,  and  others  were  now 
beingf  taught  trades,  by  means  of  which  they  cease  to 
be  an  expense  to  any  one.  He  tlien  g-oes  on  to  tell 
them  how  through  their  care  these  little  ones  have  ])een 
brought  to  know  and  to  serve  Godj  how  with  their 
earliest  accents  they  have  learned  to  speak  of  Him ; 
and  what  bright  hopes  for  a  happy  future  these  good 
beginnings  presage.  As  he  speaks,  his  words  gTow 
warmer;  and  at  last,  with  deep  emotion,  and  with 
irresistible  sweetness,  he  exclaims  :  "  Yes,  ladies,  com- 
passion and  charity  have  led  you  to  adopt  these  little 
creatures  for  your  children  ;  you  became  their  mothers 
by  grace,  when  those  who  are  their  mothers  by  nature 
abandoned  them ;  see  now,  if  you  too  will  forsake 
them.  Cease  to  be  tlieir  mothers,  that  you  may  be- 
come their  judges ;  their  life  and  death  are  in  your 
Lands.  I  nave  now  to  receive  your  decision.  The 
time  has  come  for  you  to  pronounce  sentence,  and 


en.  XV.J  THE  FOUNDLING  HOSPITAL.  113 

to  declare  whether  or  no  yon  will  still  have  pity  on 
them.  If  you  continue  your  chiiritabh!  care  over  them, 
they  will  live ;  if  you  abandon  them,  they  will  nn- 
douhtcdly  perish.  Your  own  experience  forbids  you 
to  doubt'it. 

The  result  may  ])e  easily  imng'ined.  Cost  what  it 
might,  the  g-ood  work  should  g-o  i)n ;  and  with  tearful 
eyes  but  joyful  hearts,  they  regolved  to  take  courag-e 
from  tlie  words  of  Vincent,  and  to  persevere  in  what 
was  so  evidently  the  will  of  God. 

The  king*  granted  them  the  chateau  at  Bicetre, 
which  Louis  XIII.  had  destined  for  invalided  soldiei*sj 
and  thither  for  a  time  they  sent  the  infants  who  had 
been  weaned ;  but  the  air  proving^  too  keen,  they  were 
soon  broug-ht  back  to  Paris,  and  lodged  in  a  house 
near  St.  Lazarus.  Here  they  were  intrusted  to  twelve 
Sisters  of  Charity,  who  broug-ht  them  up,  and  commu- 
nicated to  them  the  first  rudiments  of  education.  Those 
who  were  not  yet  weaned  were  ffiven  in  charg-e  to  somo 
Cv.untry  women,  and  were  visited  from  time  to  time  by 
the  sisters,  and  occasionally  by  the  Fathers  of  the  Mis- 
sion. 

In  coui*se  of  time  two  houses  were  bought  for  these 
children.  Louis  XIV.  increased  the  annual  g-rant  which 
his  mother  had  made;  and  the  good  queen-dowager 
continued  throughout  her  life  the  patronage  she  had  so 
generously  extended  to  the  charity  in  the  hour  of  its 
greatest  need.  From  that  day  to  this  the  institution 
has  flourished;  and  those  who  visit  it  in  its  present 
habitation  in  the  Rue  d'Enfer,  or  in  any  other  of  its 
many  dwelling-places,  find  as  of  old  the  Sisters  of 
Charity  carrying  on  the  very  work  Vincent  left  in  their 
hands,  and  recognise  in  its  vitality  another  token  of  tho 
heavenly  mission  of  him  whose  works  not  only  remain 
in  vigorous  life  to  the  prefient  day,  but  grow  and  ex- 
pand with  the  wants  and  necessities  of  each  succeeding 

ago*     ■  .  .4. 


.\.:- 


114 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


CONVICTS,  IDIGT8,  AND  REI'ROBATES. 

There  was  one  class  among'  the  suffering;  poor  which 
seemed  to  have  an  especial  attraction  for  the  heart  of 
Vincent;  perhaps  it  was  their  utter  friendlessness  which 
drew  him  towards  them.  They  hiul  so  long*  heen  ne- 
glected, that  no  one  cared  for  thoir  souls ;  and  the 
charity  which  sought  its  ohiects  on  every  side  passed 
them  hy  as  though  it  recognised  them  not,  or  as  though 
its  influences  had  no  power  to  move  them.  The  poor 
convicts  won  Vincent  s  early  love,  and  to  the  last  he 
clunjj  to  them. 

We  have  already  seen  what  he  did  to  improve  their 
condition  at  Marseilles,  when,  in  company  with  his 
good  friend  and  patron,  the  Count  de  Joipiy,  he  went 
among-  them,  and  by  his  untiring-  zeal  and  fervent  cha- 
rity roused  them  from  their  sinful  aj)athy,  and  opened 
their  hardened  hearts  to  the  gentle  influences  of  reli- 
gion. We  marked,  too,  how  on  his  return  to  Paris  he 
engaged  a  house  near  the  church  of  St.  Roch,  and  re- 
moved the  poor  creatures  from  their  loathsome  dun- 
geons to  this  more  fitting  place  of  detention.  Years 
have  passed  away  since  then ;  but  all  this  time  Vincent's 
care  has  watched  over  them }  his  hands  have  ministered 
to  their  iipods,  and  his  s})iritual  direction  has  guided 
many  among'  them  into  better  ways.  And  now,  after 
thirteen  years,  he  seeks  to  perpetuate  the  work  which 
ere  long  lie  must  commit  to  others,  and  to  fix  it  upon 
a  firmer  footing  than  that  which  has  hitherto  served  his 

Eurpose.  Tlie  house  near  St.  Roch  is,  after  all,  but  a 
ired  building,  upon  which  his  hold  is  very  uncertain. 
There  is  an  ancient  tower  which  stands  between  the 
river  and  the  gate  of  St.  Bernard  j  it  is  one  of  those 


I  re- 


CH.  XVI.]     CONVICTS,  IDIOTS,  AND  nEPROBATES.     116 

vast  edifices  wliich  Kpom  huilt  to  resist  the  mvng'es  nlike 
of  innn  nnd  time,  and  v/hich,  when  tlioy  luivo  served 
their  immediate  ptn-pose,  remain  as  hmchiuirks  to  tell  of 
what  has  been,  and  rear  their  worn  fronts  like  h<'ing's  of 
a  past  age,  dark,  silent,  and  alone.  This  dtjsertcd  tower 
will  onswer  Vincent's  pnrpose  well ;  here,  at  any  rate, 
he  will  be  secure  from  molestation ;  so,  having-  ol)tained 
it  as  a  gift  from  Louis  XIII.,  he  fits  it  up,  and  plsices 
in  it  these  poor  criminals.  The  year  lOG'J,  wiiich  saw 
the  Fathers  of  the  Mission  enter  into  their  new  homo 
at  St.  Lazarus,  witnessed  also  the  removal  of  the  con- 
victs to  this  more  commodious  dwelling. 

For  seven  yetirs  the  heavy  charge  of  the  work 
rested  on  Vincent ;  for  the  government  seemed  to  con- 
tent itself  with  sanctioning  what  he  did,  and  with 
granting  him  the  building  in  which  his  care  and  vigil- 
ance were  to  be  exercised.  In  Madame  Le  Gras,  how- 
ever, lie  found  a  zealous  and  active  assistant.  The  old 
tower,  indeed,  was  in  her  j)arish;  and  so,  without 
goinj^out  of  her  way,  sl^  could  divert  a  portion  of  the 
nmdy^and  attentions  of  her  charitable  association  to  the 
requirements  of  the  convicts.  Yet,  after  all,  the  de- 
mands of  such  an  establishment  pressed  so  heavily 
upon  the  young-  institution  of  St.  Lazarus,  that,  life  I  not 
God  raised  v  m  unlooked-for  benefactor,  the  burden 
might  have  been  greater  than  it  could  have  safely 
borne. 

It  A\  ;k<  about  this  time  that  a  certain  j-ich  lady  died, 
who  lett  by  will  an  annual  charge  U])on  her  estate  of 
300/.,  to  be  applied  by  her  daughter  anil  heiress,  under 
the  tulvice  of  some  ecclesiastic,  to  the  relief  of  criminals 
condemned  to  the  galleys.  Vincent,  ujjon  hearing  of 
this  legacy,  naturally  apj)lied  to  the  f'laiily  for  what 
WHS  so  evidently  intended  for  the  work  in  which  he  was 
engaged ;  but  lie  had  to  encounter  many  difficulties  on 
the  part  of  the  husband  of  the  L,  iiess,  and  it  was  only 
by  the  intervention  of  the  procurator-general,  M.  Mole, 
tliat  he  could  induce  him  to  join  witli  his  wife  in  the 
investment  of  a  sufficient  sum  of  money  out  of  the  estate 


:l 


ifmi 


^ 


.^' 


.*»• 


116  ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL.  ,*y.i;jar 

to  produce  this  annual  income.  It  seems,  however,  that 
the  objection  was  merely  of  a  technical  character ;  for 
when  Vincent  had  an  opportunity  of  explaining"  what 
the  state  of  the  convicts  had  been  before  he  had  taken 
their  cause  in  hand,  and  the  beneficial  effects  of  his 
labours  among-  them,  these  good  people  willingly  co- 
operated with  him,  and  only  stipulated  that  some  por- 
tion of  the  income  should  be  paid  to  the  Sisters  of 
Charity  whom  Vincent  had  determined  to  send  among 
them.  The  priests  of  the  parish  were  also  to  be  paid 
for  saying  Mass  and  giving  regular  instructions,  and 
Vincent  reserved  to  himself  the  privilege  of  giving  them 
missions  from  time  to  time,  especially  when  their  num- 
bers were  gT3ater  than  usual,  and  when  the  time  came 
for  any  to  be  sent  to  the  galleys  at  Marseilles. 

Thus  were  these  poor  outcasts  cared  for  and  tended 
dui'ing  their  stay  in  Paris,  and  no  longer  left  to  pine  in 
an  atmosphere  laden  with  moral  poison,  where  sin  daily 
grew  stronger  in  souls  which  had  fallen,  and  where 
what  remained  of  good  died  out  and  perished.  Vin- 
cent's care  had  provided  a  prison  where  correction  went 
hand  in  hand  with  amendment,  and  the  penalty  which 
tlie  violated  law  enforced  became  an  instrument  for  the 
salvation  of  souls. 

But  not  content  with  what  he  had  done  for  them  in 
Paris,  his  love  for  these  convicts  followed  them  to  the 
g-alleys,  and  there,  where  Vincent  had  first  learned  their 
sori'ows  and  suffering's,  he  once  more  toils  for  their 
temporal  and  spiritual  welfare.  His  friend,  the  Count  de 
Joigny,  is  no  longer  general  of  the  galleys,  for  he  has 
passed  to  his  eternal  reward ;  but  there  is  one  now  filling 
that  office  who  is  as  willing  as  he  to  listen  to  Vincent's 
advice,  and  whose  power  far  surpasses  that  which  even 
a  De  Gondi  wielded.  The  great  cardinal  who  sought 
the  counsel  of  Vincent  in  matters  of  moment,  and  who 
nevei"  turned  his  ear  from  the  frank  speech  of  one  he 
so  esteemed,  is  as  ready  as  ever  to  assist  him  in  a  good 
work ;  and  when  RicheliVn  takes  a  matter  in  hand,  there 
is  little  chance  of  its  failing  for  lack  of  energy  or  means 


,tliat 
-;  for 
what 
taken 
of  his 
ly  co- 
e  por- 
ers  of 
imong   ' 
e  paid 
iS,  and 
r  them 
i-  num- 
e  came 

tended 
pine  in 
in  daily 
L  where 
.  Vin- 
pn  went 
which 
for  the 


CH.  XVI.]    CONVICTS,  IDIOTS;  AND  REPROBATES.     117 

to  can'y  it  throug-h.  It  sounds  like  figurative  languag-e 
and  yet  it  is  literally  true,  to  say  tliat  Cardinal  Kiche- 
lieu  Duilt  upon  the  foundation  which  Emmanuel  de 
Gondi  laid.  Tlie  hospital  which  Vincent  found  so  need- 
ful at  Marseilles  De  Gondi  hegan  to  build;  but  the 
troubles  of  those  distracted  times  stayed  the  work,  and 
so  it  was  reserved  for  his  successor,  Richelieu,  to  com- 
plete what  the  former  had  so  well  begain.  It  is  pleasing" 
to  couple  in  this  noble  enterprise  another  name  which 
sheds  a  gentle  lustre  over  a  scene  so  fair,  and  to  record 
that  the  cardinal's  niece,  the  Duchess  d'Aiguillon,  gave 
no  less  a  sum  than  7001.  to  support  four  priests  of 
Vincent's  congregation,  who  were  to  devote  themselves 
entirely  to  the  care  of  the  convicts  and  to  give  missions 
to  those  who  were  placed  in  different  parts  of  the 
kingdom.  In  due  time  the  hospital  thus  built  was 
endowed  by  Louis  XIV.  with  an  income  of  COO/.,  and 
grew  up  into  a  very  flourishino*  institution ;  and  that 
monarch,  at  the  suggestion  of  his  mother,  the  regent, 
Anne  of  Austria,  confirmed  Vincent  in  his  office  of 
royal  chaplain  to  the  galleys ;  and  to  mark  his  esteem 
for  the  CongTegation  of  the  Fathers  of  the  Mission, 
decreed  tliat  the  superior  of  that  body  should  ever 
hold  that  chaplaincy  which  Vincent  so  worthily  filled. 
It  was  in  the  year  1622,  according  to  his  biogra- 
pher Collet,  that  Vincent,  paying  a  visit  incognito  to 
the  galleys  at  Marseilles,  offered  himself  in  the  place 
of  a  convict,  more  unfortunate  than  criminal,  whom  he 
found  piteously  bewailing  the  ruin  he  had  brought  upon 
his  wife  and  children  by  his  misconduct.  The  exchange 
was  made ;  and  for  several  weeks,  until  he  was  recog- 
nised, Vincent  wore  the  fetters  and  endured  all  the  hard- 
ships of  a  galley-slave.  The  authenticity  of  this  heroic 
act  of  self-sacrifice  has,  indeed,  been  brought  into  ques- 
tion ;  but  a  modern  historian*  declares  that  the  fact  is 
attested  by  the  superior  of  the  Fathers  of  the  Mission 
who  were  established  at  Marseilles  in  the  year  1643, 
and  is  further  corroborated  by  an  old  manuscript  left  by 
*  llQhrbacher,  Hiatoire  de  I'Eglite,  vol,  xxt.  p.  323. 


m 


118 


8T.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


the  Sieur  Dominique  Beyrie,  a  relative  of  the  Saint.  It 
is  related  also  that  one  of  his  priests  once  asked  Vincent 
if  the  story  were  true,  and  whether  the  swelling  in  his 
ancles,  from  which  he  suffered,  was  not  owing  to  the 
chains  he  wore  at  that  time ;  to  which  the  Saint  only 
replied  by  smiling  and  turning  the  conversation. 

It  may  not  be  out  of  place  to  notice  here  two  works 
which  Vincent  carried  on  at  St.  Lazainis,  and  from 
which  no  duties,  however  urgent,  could  divert  him. 

We  mentioned  before,  tliat  when  Vincent  first  came 
to  the  Priory  of  St.  Lazarus,  he  found  there  some  poor 
idiots  whom  the  charity  of  the  prior,  M.  Le  Bon,  was 
supj)orting :  these  immediately  became  the  object  of 
our  Saints  especial  carej  he  would  let  none  deprive 
him  of  an  exercise  of  purest  charity,  of  that  charity 
which  seeks  no  return,  but  finds  its  reward  in  itself. 
Nor  did  he  limit  his  care  to  those  whom  he  found 
already  in  the  house ;  he  rejected  none  that  were  brought 
to  him,  but  found  great  consolation,  in  the  midst  of 
many  cares  and  anxieties,  in  the  humbling  offices  which 
such  a  charge  involved. 

But  there  was  another  class  of  beings  whom  he 
received  into  the  priory,  far  more  difficult  to  manage, 
and  far  more  dangerous  members"  of  society.  Many 
a  young  person  came  under  Vincent's  care  whose  case 
was  more  desperate  than  that  of  the  poor  idiots.  Those 
who  had  plunged  themselves  into  vice  and  dissipation, 
who  had  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  the  remonstrances  of 
friends  and  kindred,  and  whom  no  other  mode  of  cor- 
rection could  reach,  were  sent  by  their  distressed  re- 
latives to  the  priory,  that  under  the  instruction  and 
guidance  of  Vincent  they  might  have  one  more  chance 
of  returning  to  a  sense  of  duty  and  recovering  the 
position  of  which  their  vices  had  deprived  them.  Thus 
St.  Lazanis  became  a  hospital  for  spiritual  lepers. 

The  evil  to  be  overcome  was  great ;  and  the  remedy, 
though  apparently  severe,  was  admirably  adapted  for 
its  purpose.  There  was  a  mystery  and  abniptness  about 
it  which  told  upon  those  whom  milder  courses  would 


CH.  XVI.]    CONVICTS,  IDIOTS,  AND  REPROBATES.     119 

have  failed  to  impress;  and  as  it  was  done  with  the 
sanction  of  hiwful  autlioiity,  there  was  no  danger  of 
its  ahuse,  even  in  less  careful  hands  than  those  of  Vin- 
cent. The  young"  reprohate,  upon  whom  all  reproof  and 
exhortation  seemed  to  have  been  thrown  away,  and 
who  was  daily  sinking  deeper  and  deeper  into  sin,  was 
suddenly  snatched  away  from  his  evil  companions  and 
carried  off  in  the  silence  of  the  nig-ht  to  the  Priory  of 
St.  Lazarus.  Upon  his  arrival  he  was  conveyed  to  a 
solitary  chamber,  none  but  the  Superior  knowing*  his 
name  and  rank ;  and  there,  while  all  due  care  was  taken 
of  him,  he  was  left  to  commune  alono  with  his  own 
conscience.  The  sudden  capture,  the  loss  of  those  upon 
whose  society  he  had  hitherto  been  dependent,  the 
stillness  and  solitude  of  the  place,  all  conspired  to 
fill  his  mind  with  a  sense  of  awe,  mingled  perhaps  for 
a  time  with  a  feeling  of  indignation.  At  first  little 
•jould  be  done  beyond  the  benefit  which  every  mind 
jiust  derive  from  being  thrown  hack  u})on  itself;  but 
as  time  passed  on,  opportunities  would  present  them- 
selves, which  Vincent  knew  so  well  how  to  use,  for  sage 
counsel  and  affectionate  influence  to  do  their  work  upon 
the  sinner.  The  calm  which  succeeds  the  storm  of 
passion  leaves  the  heart  open  to  the  influx  of  better 
feelings;  and  the  hollowness  of  worldly  joys,  especially 
when  they  have  been  polluted  by  sinful  indulgence, 
never  forces  itself  more  convincingly  upon  the  mind 
than  when  those  pleasures  have  suddenly  passed  away, 
and  left  behind  only  the  sting  of  a  troubled  conscience. 
The  poor  prodigal  began  to  yearn  after  the  inward  peace 
to  which  he  had  so  long  been  a  stranger,  to  abhor  the 
evil  over  which  the  fascinations  of  societv  had  thrown 
a  fatal  disguise,  and  to  turn  a  willing  ear  to  the  holy 
men  who  so  gently  and  lovingly  ministered  to  his  wants, 
and  whose  only  aim  was  the  salvation  of  his  soul. 
Surely  there  is  contagion  in  virtue  as  well  as  in  vice ! 
Brought  thus  under  the  daily  action  of  purer  and  better 
influences,  his  mind,  tranquillised  by  the  peace  and 
quiet  of  this  holy  retreat,  became  more  accessible  to 


1i 


m 


Hi 


f 

k 


m 

"hi 


1 II 


120 


BT.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


the  attractions  end  solicitations  of  grace.  By  and  by 
the  gardens  were  tlirown  open  to  the  penitent,  and  he 
could  walk  at  large  and  enjoy  the  freshness  of  the 
balmy  air  and  the  beauty  of  the  flowers,  themselves  the 
symbols  of  that  purity  and  innocence,  the  love  of  which, 
i.w  that  he  was  removed  li-om  the  enthralling  tempta- 
tions of  the  world,  had  begun  to  revive  in  his  heart. 
Thus  all  combined  to  develop  aspirations  after  good, 
and  to  awaken  m  him  a  desire  of  reconciliation  with 
God  and  peace  with  his  own  conscience.  And  now, 
.  his  pride  subdued,  his  heart  softened,  and  his  hopes  of 
mercy  re-animated,  it  was  not  long  before  he  cast  him- 
self in  contrition  at  tlie  feet  or  his  spiritual  father,  and 
unburdened  himself  of  his  tale  of  guilt  and  sorrow ;  and 
so  when,  after  being  carefully  watched  and  tended 
during  his  convalescence,  and  fortified  by  all  those  spi- 
ritual aids  which  Vincent  knew  so  well  how  to  apply 
for  the  restoration  of  the  repentant  sinner,  he  went  forth 
once  more  into  the  world,  he  was  no  longer  the  weak 
thing  of  former  days,  swayed  by  every  evil  influence 
and  tie  slave  of  each  unruly  passion ;  but,  strong  in  the 

frace  of  holy  sacraments,  and  resolute  in  the  course  he 
ad  set  before  him,  ho  returned  to  those  dear  relatives 
who  once  despaired  of  his  recovery,  and  gave  to  the 
world  another  example  of  the  many  blessings  which 
Vincent  was  every  day  conferring  upon  mankind.  Many 
a  broken  heart  has  been  healed  by  the  return  to  life  of 
one  who  seemed  worse  than  dead,  many  a  sinking  family 
has  been  upheld  by  the  reform  of  its  reprobate  head, 
and  many  a  man  who  has  i-itien  to  honour  and  renown 
has  owed  all  the  world  has  given,  and  far  more  than 
the  world  can  give,  to  the  zeal  of  the  holy  Fathers  who, 
under  the  guidance  of  Vincent,  gave  themselves  to  this 
work  of  spiritual  healing. 


121 


*.;-f^^ 


'■  CHAPTER  XVa 

J  LORRAINE — ITS  BUFFERINGS  AND  ITS  SUCCOUBS.  "    '" 

We  must  now  for  a  time  withdraw  our  eyes  from  what 
mia^ht  be  called  the  domestic  scenes  among*  w^hich  we 
have  found  ourselves,  and  look  abroad  upon  the  noisy 
and  tumultuous  world  which  lies  beyond.  The  quiet  of 
St.  Lazarus  must  be  left  behind,  and  we  must  travel 
througfh  a  war-distracted  and  desolate  land,  to  a  scene 
of  misery  and  suffering  which  perhaps  has  not  its  pa- 
rallel in  history. 

Paris  had  grown  wearied  with  the  cries  of  agony 
which  were  for  ever  resounding  from  all  sides;  year 
after  year  the  same  dismal  note  of  wailing  had  been 
heard  from  a  people  worn  out  by  war  and  famine, 
until  at  last  men  beo-an  to  disregard  what  had  grown 
almost  into  the  established  order  of  things,  and  to  look 
upon  it  as  a  necessary  evil.  But  suddenly  there  is  a 
louder  cry,  which  startles  even  the  dullest  from  tlieir 
apathy ;  ibr  it  tells  of  suffering  almost  beyond  belief, 
and  reveals  a  depth  of  degradation  and  horror  from 
which  the  stoutest  heart  recoils.  That  cry  is  from 
Lorraine ;  it  smites  on  Vincent's  ear,  and  at  once  he  is 
up  and  listening  to  catch  the  import  of  the  sound. 

But,  in  order  that  we  may  understand  the  nature 
and  cause  of  the  distress  which  roused  our  Saint  to  the 
gigantic  efforts  which  we  are  about  to  describe,  it  is 
necessary  to  look  back  a  little  into  t  he  history  of  the 
period  which  preceded  this  year  of  suffering,  16Ji9. 

The  thirty  years'  war  was  still  raging ;  that  deso- 
lating war  which,  as  Schiller  says,  "  from  the  interior 
of  Bohemia  to  the  mouth  of  the  Scheldt,  and  from  the 
banks  of  the  Po  to  the  coasts  of  the  Baltic,  devastated 
whole  countries,  destroyed  harvests,  and  reduced  towns 
and  villages  to  ashes  j  which  opened  a  gi-ave  for  many 


1,  It 


^'  '.mi 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


thousand  combatants,  nnd  for  half  a  century  smothered 
the  g'limmering-  sparks  of  civilisation  in  Germany,  and 
threw  back  the  improving-  manners  of  the  country  into 
their  pristine  barbarity  and  wildness." 

Most  oftheg'reat  actors  in  that  temble  tra^-ody  had 
passed  from  the  scene,  and  the  battles  which  have  left 
a  name  in  history  had  nearly  all  been  foug'ht ;  yet  the 
end  had  not  yet  come.  Wallenstein  had  risen  like  a 
meteor  in  that  murky  atmosphere ;  his  course  of  ming'led 
triumph  and  disgrace  had  been  run ;  his  deeds  of  g-reut- 
ness  and  of  sin  had  been  performed,  and  he  had  fallen 
by  the  hand  of  an  assassin  when  his  treason  was  at 
its  worst.  Gustavus  Adolphus,  too,  had  passed  away, 
Leipsic  had  witnessed  his  triumph  over  Tilly,  and  Lut- 
zen  saw  his  death  in  the  hour  of  victory ;  yet  still  the 
war  rag'ed  fiercely.  From  land  to  land  it  passed  j  and 
wherever  it  came  it  broug'ht  ruin  and  desolation.  Like 
a  tempestuous  sea,  it  swallowed  up  all  that  came  within 
its  power ;  its  waves  rolled  on ;  and  where  plenty  had 
been,  famine  and  despair  alone  remained. 

Among  the  many  countries  which  were  thus  ravag'ed, 
there  was  not  one  which  suffered  so  severelv  as  the  little 
king'dom  of  Lorraine.  But  a  few  years  before  it  had 
been  overrun  by  the  French  armies,  on  the  ground,  among* 
other  political  reasons,  of  its  duke  having  broken  his  pro- 
mised neutrality  and  joined  the  imperialists  in  defence 
of  Catholic  Germany.  Unable  to  remain  an  indifferent 
spectator  of  the  great  contest  between  the  (catholic  head 
of  the  empire  and  the  heretical  Swede,  he  had  thrown 
himself  with  less  })rudence  than  courage  in  the  way  of 
Gustavus  Adolphus,  Hushed  with  his  victory  just  gained 
at  Leii)zic.  Gustavus  swept  the  duke's  army  before  liim 
with  the  power  and  rapidity  of  a  torrent ;  and  the  de- 
feated prince  returned  in  haste  to  his  country  only  to  find 
it  a  prey  to  the  French  invaders.  France  finally  seized 
on  Lorraine  j  and  now,  when  its  legitimate  sovereign 
is  endeavouring  to  obtain  re-possession  of  his  dominions, 
the  unhappy  country,  just  recovering  from  the  effects 
of  the  former  invasion,  again  becomes  the  theatre  of 


CH.  XVII.]        SUFFERINGS  OF  LOHIlAINE. 


V23 


uned 
liim 
tie- 
find 

seized 


war,  and  of  the  fierce  ravages  of  Duke  Bernard  of 
Weimar,  who  rushes  down  on  its  fair  plains  and  car- 
ries firq  and  sword  tliroughout  the  kingdom.  HeH- 
gious  animosity  inflamed  the  bad  passions  whicli  al- 
ready burned  with  so  much  fury;  and  all  things,  sacred 
and  common,  were  alike  destroyed.  Terrible  is  the 
picture  which  contemporary  writers  draw  of  this  inva- 
sion; there  was  no  safety  for  nuns  in  convents,  for 
travellers  on  the  road,  for  cattle  in  the  pastures,  or 
for  labourers  in  the  fields.  Many  towns  and  villages 
were  entirely  depopulated;  others  were  reduced  to 
ashes ;  famine  and  pestilence  attacked  what  remained 
of  the  people ;  and  such  was  the  state  of  desolation,  that 
wolves  came  from  the  forests  and  penetrated  into  the 
very  streets,  where  they  devoured  the  bodies  of  those 
who  had  none  to  bury  them,  and  even  attacked  women 
and  children.  Calmet  has  told  the  hideous  tale  in  lan- 
guage forcible  from  its  very  simplicity.  "  The  country- 
people,"  he  says,  "livid  and  gaunt  through  famine, 
fought  for  the  very  grass,  the  roots  of  trees  and  acorns, 
and  devoured  ravenously  the  most  putrid  carrion.  At 
last  famine  brought  them  to  such  a  state,  that  men 
killed  one  another  for  food.  A  man  dared  not  sleep 
bp<?i«lp!  his  neighbour,  lest  his  throat  should  be  cut  during 
the  night ;  one  mother  mar^  compact  with  another, 
that  they  should  share  the  uody  of  her  child,  on  con- 
dition thi'.u  the  second  should  give  up  her  infant  for  the 
same  horrible  purpose  on  a  future  day ;  a  brother  fiercely 
attacked  his  sister  to  tear  from  her  the  bread  slie  was 
.eating;  and  children  killed  their  parents,  and  fought 
among*  themselves  for  their  mangled  limbs." 

Well  might  Father  Caussin,  the  king's  confessor, 
exclaim,  when  the  report  of  these  awful  deeds  and  suf- 
ferings reached  his  ears,  "  Sola  Lotliaringia  Hierosoly- 
mam  calamitate  vincH — Lorraine  alone  surpasses  Je- 
rusalem in  buffering."  Terrible  as  were  the  miseries 
which  afflicted  the  holy  city  when  it  was  besieged 
by  Titus,  they  were  exceeded  by  those  which  visited 
Lorraine,  when  Christian  rose  against  Chiistian,  and 


j\ 


'li 


'm 


jAa 


194 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


Ms 

i 


'i''i  m 


the  foulest  deeds  were  perpetrated  in  the  name  of  reli- 
gion. 

Such  was  the  misery  wliich  afflicted  Lorraine,  and 
which  cried  aloud  for  help.  Vincent  heard  tliat  cry, 
and  at  once  responded  to  its  ap})eal.  He  culled  his 
cong-reg'ation  tog*ether,  and  advised  them  to  set  an  ex- 
ample worthy  of  the  occasion,  and  to  show  to  others 
how  self-denying"  is  real  charity.  But  what  could  they 
do/  What  superfluities  had  they  to  cut  off,  win  t 
luxuries  to  abandon,  that  with  the  money  thus  saved 
they  mig-ht  have  wherewithal  to  help  the  starvino-  peo- 
ple of  Lorraine  ?  He  g'ave  all  the  money  they  had  in 
the  house  to  this  purpoboj  but  this  was  not  enough 
to  satisfy  his  ardent  charity.  He  could  not  do  much  in 
the  way  of  retrenchment;  for  already  had  their  ordi- 
nary simple  fare  been  diminished  when  the  troubles  of 
1636  had  driven  so  many  poor  creatures  from  the  coun- 
try into  Paris.  But  still  something  must  be  done;  and 
so  he  substituted  rye-bread  for  wheaten,  and  reduced 
one  half  their  portion  of  wine.  "  These  are  times  of 
penance,"  said  he ;  "  for  God  is  afflicting  His  people. 
Is  it  not,  then,  our  office  to  be  at  the  foot  of  the  altar, 
mourning  the  sins  of  others?  To  so  much  we  are 
bound  by  obligation;  but  ought  we  not  moreover  to 
retrench  something  of  our  daily  fare  for  tlie  relief  of 
others  ?"  And  not  one  of  the  Fathers  raised  a  mur- 
mur; for  he  who  spoke  thus  was  the  first  to  practise 
what  he  enjoined. 

And  now  that  he  had  made  a  beginning  at  home, 
Vincent  could  with  a  be\;ter  grace  call  others  to  his  aid 
in  this  great  enterprise.  His  first  appeal  was  to  Ma- 
dame de  Goussault  and  the  ladies  over  whom  she  pre- 
sided, and,  as  he  expected,  they  entered  readily  and 
heartily  into  his  plans.  But  the  want  was  greater  than 
he  and  they  could  meet,  for  it  affected  a  whole  king- 
dom and  every  class  within  its  limits.  What  of  that  ? 
Should  Vincent's  heart  fail  him  because  the  task  was 
heavy,  and  should  he  doubt  of  success  because  exertion 
and  toil  were  needed  in  its  prosecution  ?    Men  of  less 


CH.  XVIJ.]         SUFFERINGS  OF  LORRAINE. 


126 


[was 
Ition 
lless 


faith  mig-ht  have  shnmk  from  so  g-ig-nntic  a  hibour;  hut 
it  was  a  charactei-istic  cf  our  Saint  to  rise  witli  the 
and   to  draw  courajfe   from  what   daunted 


occasion, 


others. 

His  ordinary  resources  were  soon  exhausted,  and 
then  lie  had  recourse  to  others.  Fortunately  for  Lor- 
raine, there  were  those  whose  means  were  as  aiiijile  as 
their  dispositions  were  g-enerous,  to  whom  Vincent 
never  applied  for  help  in  vain.  The  Duchess  d'Aiguil- 
lon,  the  niece  of  Cardinal  Richelieu  and  heiress  of  his 
great  wealth,  used  with  no  sparing*  hand  the  jjower  and 
means  which  her  exalted  position  placed  at  her  disposal ; 
and  he  who  stood  so  high  in  the  good  opinion  of  the 
all-powerful  uncle  exercised  no  less  an  influence  over 
the  noble-minded  and  generous  niece.  The  duchess  re- 
sponded warmly  to  the  appeal  of  Vincent ;  and  thus  the 
charity  which  flowed  towards  Lorraine  widened  its 
channel  and  gi-ew  more  commensurate  with  the  need 
which  called  it  forth. 

But  there  was  another,  in  still  hig"her  place,  to  whom 
our  Saint  made  known  the  want  of  Lorraine,  and  from 
whom  he  received  no  slig-ht  assistance.  This  was  no 
less  a  person  than  the  queen  herself,  Anne  of  Austria. 
Not  long*  before  the  time  of  which  ^\  e  are  writing',  she 
had  given  birth  to  a  son,  who  in  a  very  few  years  be- 
came Louis  XIV. ;  and  now  she  seems  anxious  to  show 
her  gratitude  for  this  long'-v;ished-ibr  blessing'  by  cast- 
ing' with  a  lavish  hand  her  charities  into  Vincent's  trea- 
sury. Thus  aided  on  all  sides,  our  Saint  has  means  al- 
most equal  to  the  appalh'ng'  necessities  to  which  he  had 
undertaken  to  minister ;  and  Lorraine  experiences  what 
the  burning"  charity  of  one  man  could  do  in  relieving 
what  had  lately  been  an  independent  kingdom,  and 
was  now  one  of  the  chief  provinces  of  France. 

We  may  judg-e  of  the  wants  which  came  before 
him,  when  we  iind  that  he  kept  from  starvation  i'oi 
several  long  years  not  fewer  than  five  -  and  -  twenty 
towns;  that  he  had  moreover  to  succour  crowds  of 
country-people,  aa  well  as  priests,  and  religious  of  both 


{4 


h"t'- 


ido 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


sexes ;  that  the  sick  nnd  wounded  were  thrown  upon  his 
hands ;  and  that  such  was  the  distress  which  soug-lit  his 
aid,  that  he  had  htemlly  to  clothe  the  naked  as  well  as 
feed  the  hungry,  liis  ag-ents  finding  to  their  horror  whole 
multitudes  ot  people  u  ithout  a  sing-le  rag  to  cover  them. 
It  was  Vincent's  part  not  only  to  arouse  the  charity  of 
the  faithful  and  to  collect  the  alms,  ]>ut  to  organise  a 

!)lan  for  their  distribution.  This  was  a  task  for  which 
le  was  especially  fitted.  With  the  most  ardent  zeal 
and  the  most  untiring*  energy,  which  recognised  obsta- 
cles only  to  overcome  them,  he  combined  that  common 
sense  and  tho3e  business-like  habits  which  qualified 
him  for  the  arrangement  of  the  smallest  details  as  well 
as  for  undertaking  the  most  extensive  operations.  His 
first  care  was  to  send  into  different  parts  of  Lorraine 
a  dozen  of  his  missionaries,  and  some  of  the  Fathera 
of  the  congregation  who  were  skilled  in  medicine  and 
surgery.  He  gave  them  full  and  complete  rules  for 
their  guidance,  and  especially  enjoined  upon  them  the 
necessity  of  taking  no  important  step  without  first  con- 
sulting the  ecclesiastical  authorities  of  the  place.  By 
these  means  he  protected  his  agents  from  even  the  ap- 
pearance of  unauthorised  interference,  and  gained  for 
them  the  coiuitenance  and  support  of  the  local  clergy. 
The  first  town  in  which  this  relief  was  given  was  Toul, 
where  the  congregation  had  a  liouse  of  their  own ;  and 
from  their  labours  there,  we  may  judge  of  the  zeal  and 
energy  with  which  this  duty  was  fulfilled  in  other  parts 
of  Lorraine.  There  is  still  preserved  a  document,  dated 
December  20th,  1G39,  written  by  the  vicar- general, 
Jean  Midot,  who  administered  the  diocese  during  the 
vacancy  of  that  see,  in  which  he  states,  that  for  two 
years  these  priests  clothed  and  fed  a  crowd  of  poor 
people,  whom  they  also  supplied  with  medicines ;  that 
they  received  sixty  patients  into  their  house,  and  sup- 
ported a  hundred  in  the  suburbs,  besides  giving  their 
services  to  the  wounded  in  the  royal  army.  Nor  was 
this  the  only  testimonial  irom  Toul;  for  the  Dominican- 
esses, who  iiad  two  convents  in  that  place,  bear  grate- 


ClI.  XVII.]         SUFFEKINUM  UF  LUHUAI.\E. 


1-^7 


for 


and 
and 
larts 
ated 
neral, 
the 
two 
poor 
that 
sup- 
their 
r  was 
nican- 
grate- 


fiil  testimony,  not  only  to  thu  services  reiulfred  t(»  the 
wounded  .soldiers,  but  to  the  suppoil  whicli,  tor  two 
years  and  a  half,  they  themselves  received,  and  to 
which,  indeed,  they  owed  their  preservation  tiom  star- 
vation. "  Blessed  bo  Ciod,"  they  conclude,  "  who  has 
sent  us  these  angels  of  peace,  in  a  time  of  such  cahimi- 
ties,  for  the  good  of  tliis  city,  for  the  consolation  of 
His  people,  and  for  our  own  in  particular." 

Vincent  discouraged  the  sending  of  such  documents 
as  these,  and  only  permitted  an  account  to  be  forwarded 
of  the  money  expended,  that  he  might  satisfy  all  pai*- 
ties  as  to  the  use  that  had  boon  made  of  their  alms. 

Perhaps,  of  all  places  in  Lorraine,  the  city  of  Metz 
suftered  most  severely.  Not  less  than  four  or  five  thou- 
sand of  its  inhabitants  wandered  about  the  streets  in 
the  utter  helplessness  of  distress.  Not  a  morning  came 
but  showed  some  ten  or  twelve  dead  bodies  oi  those 
who  had  perished  of  want  during  the  night,  and  hide- 
ous tales  were  whispered  about  of  those  whose  misery 
had  been  suddenly  cut  short  by  the  attack  of  wolves. 
Would  that  this  were  the  worst !  alas,  famine  de- 
stroyed souls  as  well  as  bodies;  and  there  were  wretched 
creatures  who,  to  preserve  life,  sold  that  which  should 
be  dearer  than  life,  and  bartered  away  their  womanly 
honour  for  a  morsel  of  bread.  Nay,  a  danger  threat- 
ened, which  seemed,  if  possible,  still  more  fearful;  for 
several  religious  communities  of  women  were  on  the 
point  of  abandoning  their  cloisters,  and  casting  them- 
selves on  the  world,  in  those  evil  days  when  scarce  t\]fi 
cloister  could  protect  their  innocence  from  the  violence 
of  a  licentious  soldiery. 

Miserable  indeed  was  the  spiritual  and  temporal 
state  of  Metz.  In  the  previous  year  (1638)  the  parlia- 
ment had  desrrted  it  for  Toul,  and  carried  with  it  what 
little  succour  its  presence  might  have  afforded;  while 
the  extent  of  its  spiritual  destitution  may  be  measured 
by  the  simple  fact,  that  its  bishop,  a  natural  son  of 
lienry  IV.,  had  never  even  received  orders,  and  left 
his  people  to  die  of  famine,  while  he  squandered  at 


l! 


i.  5ff 


W 


Hi: 


mwff'^^'V' 


128 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


court  (hft  income  of  his  diocese  and  of  fiix  ricli  abbo^l 
which  he  nlsio  enjoyed ! 

Verdun,  another  of  its  chief  cities,  Imd  little  to  boast 
over  its  misern))le  neigljbour.  Its  bishop  iiad  taken  ail 
active  {)art  in  tiie  wars  which  desolated  the  kingdom; 
and  now  that  Lorraine  had  passed  under  the  rule  o 
France,  he  vuiiily  opposed  the  authority  of  Louis,  and 
in  the  ardom*  of  his  zeal  excommunicated  all  those  citi- 
zens who  assisted  in  tiio  restoration  of  the  citadel. 
Obiig'ed  to  fly  from  his  diocese,  he  betook  himself  to 
Cologne,  where  ho  collected  a  body  of  troops,  and  re- 
turned to  besiege  Verdun,  witli  no  other  result  than 
an  increase  of  misery  to  his  poor  subjects.  For  three 
years  did  the  missionaries  remain  in  that  city,  during 
wiiicli  time  they  continued  to  distribute  bread  among 
fi'om  Jour  to  six  hundred  poor  starving  creatures ;  they 
provided  meal  and  soup  tor  sixty  sick  people,  to  whom 
money  was  also  freely  given.  Nor  did  their  charity 
stop  hero  :  no  less  tlian  thirty  persons  of  better  con- 
dition received  private  relief  horn  them  j  while  at  all 
hours  of  the  day  bread  was  given  to  crowds  of  poor 
people  who  came  in  for  relief  I'rom  tlie  country,  and 
clothing  was  freely  distributed  amon"*  them  all. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add,  that  Vincent's  love 
of  souls  was  not  idle  in  these  ministrations  for  the 
body.  The  season  of  calamity  is  frequently  one  of 
great  spiritual  graces.  Vincent's  lessons  had  not  been 
lost  on  his  children;  he  spoke  by  their  lips;  his  love 
beamed  in  their  eves;    his   charitv   burned   in  tlieir 

erdun  hlled  with  sights  at  which 
there  is  joy  in  heaven  :  patient  resignation  in  extreme 
distress;  love  of  God  when  affliction  was  heaviest; 
souls  saved  while  bodies  perished ;  penitents  reconciled ; 
sinners  converted;  and  those  who  in  prosperity  had 
neglected  their  chief  duties  brought  by  adversity  to 
their  Father's  house.  Well  might  one  of  those  mis- 
sionaries exclaim,  in  a  letter  to  Vincent,  "  How  many 
souls  are  brought  to  heaven  by  poverty  !  Since  I  have 
been  in  LoiTaine^  I  have  assisted  more  than  a  thousand 


CM.  XVII. J      SUPPFIllNOft  OF  LOIIHAINK. 


129 


poor  people  at  the  liour  of  death,  all  of  whom  appnarcd 
to  be  well  prepared.  See,  then,  how  many  intercessoi'S 
there  are  in  heaven  for  thoye  who  have  assisted  them 
on  earth."  Without  dwelling-  upon  the  details  of  simi- 
lar scones  in  otlier  parts  of  Lorraine,  we  may  mention, 
that  in  Nancy  tiie  aule-bodied  were  8iinj)ortea  hy  alms; 
and  as  there  was  no  work  in  which  they  could  be  em- 
ployed, the  opportunity  was  taken  to  give  them  a  mis- 
sion, which  was  so  successful,  that  the  greater  portion 
of  them,  about  five  hundred,  became  regidar  monthly 
communicants.  As  for  the  sick,  the  missionaries  ])laeed 
as  many  as  possible  in  the  public  hos[iital,  where  tiiey 
provided  them  with  what  was  needful;  and  the  rest 
they  received  into  their  own  house.  Tliey  made  a  daily 
distribution  to  a  hundred  ag-ed  and  inh'm  po(  who 
were  lodged  in  different  parts  of  the  city,  and  took 
especial  care  of  women  who  were  imrsing*  infants. 

At  Bar-le-Duc  the  missionaries  were  recei"«'n  and 
lodged  by  the  Jesuit  Fathers,  who  shared  thei  itt.  ours 
with  them.  Here  the  distress  was  as  great  as  ut  Nuncy 
and  Verdun ;  and  the  same  energy  and  self-denial  were 
displayed  in  relieving  it.  A  terrible  di.-ease  increased 
the  *sufferings  of  the  people,  whose  compunction  and 

1)enitence  equalled  their  misery  and  distress.  Crowds 
)esiegod  the  confessionals ;  and  one  at  least  of  the  mis- 
sionaries fell  an  earlv  victim  to  his  zeal  and  devotion. 
Germain  de  Montevil  was  but  twenty-eight  years  of 
age  when  he  arrived  at  Bar-le-Duc,  and  in  one  month 
he  heard  upwards  of  eight  hundred  general  confessions. 
He  sank  under  the  effort,  and  war  juried  by  the  Je- 
suits in  their  college-cliapel,  followoi'-.  U:*  the  grave  by  a 
crowd  of  poor,  who  "wept,"  an  eye-witness  relates, 
"  as  if  they  had  lost  a  father." 

At  Pont-a-Mousson  the  missionaries  witnessed  a 
scene  of  terrible  soflfering.  Tliey  brought  relief  to  those 
who  were  too  exhausted,  to  receive  it ;  hundreds  of 
gaunt  beings,  with  scarcely  tlie  aspect  of  men,  stretched 
forth  their  hands  for  food,  and  died  in  the  effort 
to  eat  it  I     Women  and  children  dared  not  walk  the 


I 


1'1 


1 ' 


I     : 


130 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


..<Ji|W-„ 


streets,  in  which  the  wolves  prowled  at  larg-e ;  and  as- 
sistance had  to  be  taken  to  their  houses,  to  which  they 
were  confined  through  fear  of  these  fierce  animals,  or, 
it  may  be,  of  being's  still  more  fierce  and  savage,  who, 
human  in  name  and  form,  Irnd  lost  through  suffering 
their  human  nature,  and  madly  devoured  their  fellow- 
creatures.  Terrible  as  this  picture  is,  it  is  not  over- 
dr«Awn ;  for  there  is  a  formal  document  of  that  date 
which  tells  the  almost  incredible  story  of  a  child  mur- 
dered, torn  in  pieces,  and  devoured  by  children  but  little 
older  than  himself! 

The  sufferings  of  the  time  had  fallen  heavily  upon 
every  class,  uud  not  the  least  severely  upon  the  clergy. 
Several  among  them  had  perished  with  their  flocks; 
and  the  consequence  was,  that  many  places  were  with- 
out priests,  and  children  died  in  great  numbers  with- 
out baptism.  To  meet  this  pressing  evil,  which  could 
not  be  relieved  by  those  who  already  were  overbur- 
dened with  the  work  to  which  Vincent  had  sent  them, 
our  Saint  engaged  two  other  priests  to  traverse  the 
diocese  of  Toul,  to  baptise  all  who  had  net  as  yet 
received  that  sacrament,  and  also  to  instruct  fit  persons 
in  each  canton  in  the  manner  of  administeiing  the 
same,  that  children  who  should  be  afterwards  born 
might  receive  baptism  at  their  hands. 

Thus  every  need,  spiritual  and  temporal  alike,  be- 
came the  care  of  Vincent ;  and  to  each  his  ready  hand 
extended  the  remedy  which  his  thoughtful  mind  de- 
vised. 

At  St.  Mihiel  there  was  an  aggTavation  to  the 
distress  which  that  place  shared  with  the  resc  of  Lor- 
raine ;  for  the  opposition  which  Richelieu  had  there 
met  with  had  induced  him  to  send  a  French  garrison 
into  the  town.  We  cannot  give  a  better  idea  of  the 
suflfering's  which  Vincent's  missionaries  discovered  than 
is  conveyed  in  a  letter  from  one  of  those  ministers  of 
charity,  "I  began,"  he  writes,  "as  soon  as  I  arrived, 
to  distribute  alms  ;  but  I  found  so  vast  a  number  of 
poor,  that  I  knew  not  how  to  relieve  all.    There  are 


CH.  XVII.]      SUFFERIJWOS  OF  LORRAINE. 


131 


more  tlmn  three  hundred  of  them  in  great  distress,  and  as 
many  others  who  are  reduced  to  the  utmost  exti^mity. 
I  tell  you  the  tmth,  sir,  there  are  more  than  a  hundred, 
of  them  mere  hving-  skeletons ;  so  frig-htful  to  heboid, 
that  if  our  Lord  did  not  streng-then  me,  I  could  not 
endure  the  sight  of  them.  Their  skin  is  like  marhle, 
and  so  shrunk,  that  their  teeth  stand  out  dry  and  ex- 
posed ;  their  eyes  and  faces  are  quite  withered ;  in 
short,  it  is  the  most  terrihle  scene  that  can  he  imagined. 
They  dig  up  roots  in  the  fields,  wh'lch  tlviy  dress  and 
eat.  I  wish  especially  to  recommend  these  great  cala- 
mities to  the  prayers  of  the  company.  There  are  several 
ladies  of  noble  hirth  who  are  perishing  with  hunger, 
and  among  them  some  who  are  young.  I  am  in  dread 
lest  despair  should  drive  f.cm  to  wretchedness  worse 
than  death."  Another  letter  from  this  same  priest  in- 
forms Vincent  that  he  has  distributed  bread  to  eleven 
hundred  and  thirty-two  poor  creatures,  without  includ- 
ing* the  many  sick  whom  he  had  assisted.  It  also  bears 
ample  testimony  to  the  patience  with  which  these  suf- 
ferings were  borne,  and  to  the  gratitude  which  found 
its  vent  in  prayers  for  their  benefactors. 

Vincent  was  anxious  to  know  the  full  particulars  of 
the  miseries  with  which  he  had  undertaken  to  deal.  To 
this  end  he  determined  upon  sending  one  of  his  first 
companions  to  visit  the  different  places  in  which  he  had 
placed  his  agents.  He  had  another  object  also  in  view, 
which  was,  to  see  how  the  work  of  relief  was  being  car- 
ried on,  and  how  far  those  he  had  sent  were  exercising 
fitting  prudence  and  discretion  in  its  execution.  It  was 
his  duty  as  superior  to  watch  over  those  who  had  put 
themselves  under  his  rule,  and  to  prevent  their  under- 
taking labours  beyond  their  strength. 

The  report  of  this  priest  is  full  of  in'^erest ;  but  we 
must  content  ourselves  with  one  extract,  and  it  shall  be 
one  which  relates  to  this  same  St.  Mihiel : 

"  I  will  toll  you,  sir,  of  things  which  have  occurred 
in  this  place,  and  which  ar»  so  extraordinary,  that  had 
we  not  seen  them  with  our  own  eyes,  we  should  not  have 


f,'ii' 


l^'l 


132 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


believed  them.  Besides  the  poor  mendicants  I  have 
ah'eady  laentioned,  the  greater  part  of  the  inliabitants, 
and  especially  the  highest  class,  endure  such  extremes 
of  lumger  as  can  be  neither  described  nor  imagined; 
and  what  makes  this  still  more  deplorable  is,  that  they 
have  not  the  face  to  beg*.  There  are  some  among  them, 
it  is  true,  who  conquer  this  sense  of  shame ;  but  others 
will  rather  die ;  and  I  have  myself  spoken  to  some  per- 
sons of  condition  who  do  nothing  but  weep  at  such  a 
state  of  things.  Here  is  anotiier  flict  still  stranger : 
a  widow  woman,  having  no  food  left  for  herself  and 
her  three  children,  and  seeing  nothing  before  them  but 
starvation,  skinned  a  snake,  and  laid  it  on  the  fire  to 
roast  for  food.  Our  brother  who  resides  in  this  place 
heard  of  it,  and  hastened  to  the  spot ;  he  witnessed  the 
fact  I  have  related,  and  administered  proper  relief.  If 
a  horse  dies  in  the  town,  no  matter  of  what  disease,  it 
is  at  once  seized  upon  and  devoured;  and  not  more 
than  tliree  or  four  davs  ago  a  woman  was  found  at 
the  public  place  where  relief  is  distributed,  who  had 
a  lap  full  of  putrid  flesh,  which  she  was  giving  to  other 
poor  people  in  exchange  for  morsels  of  bread.  Another 
very  dej)lorable  circumstance  is,  that  the  priests,  who 
are  all  (thank  God !)  of  exemplaiy  iife,  suffer  the  same 
want,  and  have  not  bread  to  eat.  A  parish-priest,  for 
instance,  who  lives  a  mile  and  a  half  from  the  town,  is 
compelled  to  drag  his  own  plough,  to  which  he  and 
some  of  his  parishioners  are  j'^oked  like  horses.  To 
conclude,  sir,  our  Saviour  is  so  good,  that  He  seems 
to  have  specially  granted  to  the  people  of  St.  Mihiel 
the  spirit  of  devotion  and  of  patience ;  for  amid  their 
extreme  lack  of  temporal  food,  they  are  so  anxious  for 
spiri'ial  sustenance,  that  we  have  not  less  than  two 
thousand  persons  at  catechism — a  large  number  this 
for  a  small  city  in  whicli  most  of  the  large  houses  are 
deserted.  The  poorest  are  very  careful  to  be  present, 
and  to  frequent  the  sacraments;  and  all  classes  alike 
have  the  greatest  esteem  for  the  missioiary  who  is 
here,  and  who  instmcts  and  consoles  them,  conRfdei'ing 


CH.  XVII.]      SUFFERINGS  OF  LORRAINE. 


188 


it  a  hoppiness  to  have  spoken  to  him  even  once.  He  is 
so  en^ag;ed  in  works  of  charity  "and  in  the  many  duties 
of  his  office — indeed,  he  is  so  overwhelmed  with  gene- 
ral confessions,  and  so  exhausted  throug-h  want  of  proper 
food,  that  he  has  at  length  fallen  sick." 

We  must  not  dwell  longer  upon  so  painful  a  theme. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  that  Vincent  employed  his  influence 
with  Cardinal  Richelieu,  and  obtained  the  removal  of 
tlie  French  force  from  St.  Mihiel,  and  thus  in  some 
measure  relieved  that  place  from  the  heavy  pressure 
which  weig-hed  upon  it ;  and  by  his  abundant  alms  he 
did  still  more  to  save  it  from  utter  ruin.      "  '.    ^  ■..- 

The  efforts  of  the  missionaries  were  not  limited  to 
the  towns  we  have  mentioned;  indeed,  they  may  be 
truly  said  to  have  extended  throughout  the  length  and 
breadth  of  Lorraine;  for  wherever  distress  called  for  help, 
there  was  Vincent  and  his  faithful  band.  And  what 
point  was  +here  in  that  desolated  lantl  which  needed  not 
assistance  ?  But  the  details  we  have  given  will  more 
than  suffice  to  illustrate  alike  the  dreadful  misery  of  the 
people  and  the  exertions  of  our  Saint  for  their  relief. 

It  is  scarcely  possible  to  form  an  accurate  estimate 
of  the  money  expended  in  this  charitable  work.  Abelly 
says,  that  Vincent  collected  and  sent  at  different  times 
nearly  sixteen  hundred  thousand  livres  to  the  poor  of 
Lorraine ;  and  Collet  (another  excellent  authority) 
proves,  from  documents  which  he  examined,  that  it 
amounted  to  two  millions  of  livres — a  sum  which,  ac- 
cording* to  the  value  of  money  at  that  time,  is  above 
one  hundred  thousand  pounds  sterling!— alms  woi-thy 
alike  of  a  great  city,  of  the  occasion  which  called  them 
forth,  and  of  the  Saint  to  whose  energy  and  persever- 
ance the  good  work  owed  its  beginning  and  its  com- 
pletion. Few  would  have  had  the  courage  to  take  in 
hand  a  task  so  great,  and  still  fewer  would  have  suc- 
ceeded in  carrying  it  throug'h.  But  Vincent's  zeal 
was  guided  by  profound  wisdom;  tlie  resolution  he 
formed  was  groimded  on  full  consideration  and  a  careful 
weighing  of  the  whole  matter ;  and  thus,  when  difficul- 


\M 


m 

m 

*l|rt  1  -'wm 

mn 

yfl 

[.ii 

ik| 

i 

H9 


134 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


*..> 


t  -i-i 


ties  arose,  they  never  took  him  by  surprise;  he  was  pre- 
pared to  meet  and  to  overcome  tnem  in  the  streng-th  of 
Him  whose  gflory  alone  he  soug'ht.  That  the  hand  of 
God  directed  and  blessed  this  undei-taking-,  no  Christian 
can  for  a  moment  doubt;  but  the  special  providence 
which  watched  over  it  showed  itself  in  a  manner  which 
was  little,  if  at  all,  short  of  miraculous. 

In  times  of  such  disorder  there  was  no  protection 
for  the  traveller.  Disbanded  soldiers  infested  the  coun- 
try, who  no  loncer  assumed  the  flimsy  pretext  of  mili- 
tary authority  for  their  exactions,  but  conducted  them- 
selves openly  as  robbere;  wliile  utter  ruin  and  inevitable 
starvation  urged  many  a  wretched  creature  to  attempt 
the  life  of  his  fellow-man  whenever  he  chanced  to  meet 
with  one  less  destitute  than  himself.  In  consequence 
of  this  well-known  condition  of  the  country,  no  one 
who  had  any  thing  of  value  about  him  would  venture 
to  travel  alone ;  nor  was  money  ever  sent;  from  place 
to  place  without  a  strons*  escort.  And  jei,  in  the  very 
worst  of  these  unsettled  times,  Vincent  sent  a  solitary 
unarmed  brother  of  his  order  from  Paris  into  LoiTaine 
with  large  sums  of  money  about  his  person ;  and  this 
not  once  or  twice  only,  but  fifty-threo  times  in  the 
course  of  the  nine  or  ten  years  during*  which  the  distress 
continued..   From  place  to  place  this  unprotected  priest 

Eassed  throug^h  the  midst  of  misery  and  wild  confusion; 
ut  never  once  did  robber  successfullv  assail  him,  never 
once  did  he  lose  even  a  fraction  of  the  twenty  or  thirty 
thousand  livres  he  caiTied  with  him. 

It  was  not  that  Brother  Matthew  Renard,  for  that 
was  his  name,  met  with  no  adventures,  or  that  he  es- 
caped without  difficulty  the  many  dangers  which  beset 
his  way ;  few  men  had  stranger  tales  to  tell  than  he  on 
his  return  to  Paris  from  one  of  these  expeditions.  In- 
deed, he  was  so  great  a  hero  in  his  way,  that  the  queen 
herself  was  fain  to  see  him  and  listen  to  his  narratives 
It  g'ives  one  quite  an  insight  into  the  manners  and  habits 
of  the  age,  to  mark  the  quaint  simplicity  prevailing 
amid  the  formality  of  a  royal  couii;,  which  could  allow 


*x 


CH.  XVri.]      SUFFERINGS  OF  LORRAINE.  135 

of  poor  Brother  Renard's  being-  admitted  into  the  auffust 
presonce  of  Anne  of  Austria  to  tell  his  story.  How 
must  Vincent's  eyes  have  beamed  with  more  than  their 
usual  sweetnezs  and  good-nature,  as  he  brought  his 
slirewd  messenger  to  the  graceful  and  kind-hearted 
queen ;  and  how  must  they  both  have  smiled  at  the  re- 
cital of  the  clever  stratagems  by  which  the  justly-named 
Renard  preserved  their  alms  from  the  hands  of  the 
spoiler !  Of  a  truth,  he  had  many  a  tale  to  tell ;  and  it 
is  only  fair  that  we  should  admit  our  readers  to  the 
conference,  and  let  them  listen  while  he  relates  to  his 
royal  patroness  how,  to  use  his  own  words,  "  the  God 
of  Vincent  de  Paul  journeyed  with  him,  and  guarded 
him  on  his  way." 

Sometimes  lie  joins  a  convoy  which  is  attacked,  but 
he  is  sure  always  himself  to  escape ;  new  he  parts  com- 
pany with  his  fellow-travellers  to  their  loss,  for  tliey  are 
plundered  almost  as  soon  as  he  has  left  them ;  on  another 
occasion  he  perceives  some  robbers  or  disbanded  soldiers 
in  a  wood,  he  throws  his  purse  into  a  bush,  and  then 
advances  boldly  towards  the  marauders,  displaying  os- 
tentatiously his  empty  wallet,  like  a  man  who  has  nothing 
to  fear.     Of  course,  they  search  him  from  to;i  to  to.^  and 
equally  of  course,  gain  nothing*  for  their  trouble,  and 
so  let  him  pass.    As  soon  as  they  are  out  of  sight,  back 
the  poor  brother  goes  to  pick  up  his  purse,  and  caii'ies 
on   in   triumph  perhaps   a   hundred  thousand   livres. 
Once  he  had  a  very  narrow  escape ;  for  travelling  with 
a  large  sum  about  his  person,  he  was  suddenly  attacked 
by  a  horseman,  who,  not  wishing  to  search  ^  im  on  the 
public  road,  made  him  walk  before  his  liorse  with  a 
pistcl  at  his  he 'd  towards  a  more  retired  spot.     How 
could  Tlenard  conceal  his  money  ?   He  never  despaired, 
but  waiching  an  opportunity  when  the  robber  chanced 
to  turn  his  head,  he  th,  w  his  purse  upon  the  ground. 
And  now  Brother  Renard  became  v^istly  polite,  and 
made  various  bowings  and  scrapings  ocfore  his  captor. 
The  robber  paid  no  attention  to  what  he  considered 
mere  tricks  to  awaken  his  compassion,  and  drove  him 


m 


|:py^«« 


136 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL, 


I      ^L 


:  ::;;M 


on  before  him,  but  not  till  Renard  had  made  footmarks 
enough  on  the  plougflied  land  which  they  were  crossinff 
to  recognise  the  spot  again.  At  last  the  iobLer  ciiopped, 
and  searchtnl  the  miciiionary  close  to  tue  edge  of  'a  pre 
cipice,  W«  may  imagine  the  fate  ^v  mjcI'.  would  ha^'^e 
await pil  the  poor  brother,  had  tliis  larjie  suiu  hem 
found  upon  him,  for  "dead  m'l  tell  l/j  tntf  ;j"  1  it  m 
nothing  was  discovered,  he  wa:<  allowd  to  })ass  on,  m 
due  time  to  jetiirn  to  ( Jje  scene  of  his  manoBuvro  and 
recover  his  mouey. 

Innumerable  were  the  advi?ntures  he  iiiet  withy  p;nd 
wonderful  was  thf  fertility  of  ias  v.it  in  devising  expe- 
dients For  escaping  from  those  wh m  waylaid  him.  His 
oft-rep'-'jted  journeys  attracted  atlojjtioi;,  and  A  soou 
bef;»tre  knov/n  that  the  raissionarv  wus  the  bearer  of 
larg*..  sums  of  money.  His  danger  thus  increased  ;  am- 
bu'l'es  were  laid  for  him,  which  he  generally  esca)  ed; 
or  ii  he  wus  taken,  he  was  sure  not  to  have  a  farthing 
about  him.  The  conclusion  was  natural ;  the  evil- 
disposed  declared  he  was  a  sorcerer ;  the  poor,  whom 
he  relieved,  regarded  him  as  their  guardian-angel. 
Vincent  applauded  his  skill,  and  the  queen  enjoyed  and 
triumphec!  m  his  successes. 

We  have  not  quite  finished  yet  with  Lorraine  and 
its  troubles ;  for  Vincent's  work  of  charity  is  still  in- 
complete. The  father  who  had  been  sent,  as  we  before 
mentioned,  to  visit  the  different  parts  of  that  province, 
reported  on  his  return  that  a  great  number  of  young 
women,  who  had  lost  their  parents  in  the  wars,  or 
during-  the  subsequent  distress,  were  in  great  poverty  ; 
and  tJiat  they  w^ere  exposed  to  the  int^olence  and  vio- 
lence of  the  soldiery  who  occu|)ied  tlie  country.  Vin- 
cent consulted  the  ladicjs  who  had  so  often  helr/ed  him 
in  difficulties ;  and  it  was  decided  that  the  missionary 
should  return  to  tlie  duch}'',  and  bring  back  with  him  to 
Paris  all  who  wished  to  leave  tlie  scene  of  so  much 
danger.  But  when  he  made  Ir :  errand  known,  so 
lai'ge  a  number  offered  themselv  ,  ^ilat  he  could  only 
make  a  selection  j  and  he  returr :      ^companied  by  no 


Li-ks 
dnff 
ped, 

pre 

been 

it  slH 

111,  m 
and 

ij  .^iid 
•  xpe- 
His 
;  soon 
irer  of 
I ;  am- 
2aied; 
irtliing 
e   evil- 
,  whom 

ang'el. 

ed  and 


CH.  XVII.J       SUFFERINGS  OF  LORRAINE. 


137 


ine 


and 

still  in- 
Lefore 

Lovince, 
young 

l-ars,  or 

lovevty ; 

Ind  vio- 
Viiv 
[>eu  liim 
fesionary 
[i  hin)  to 
jo  much 
Wn,  so 
lild  only 
Id  hy  no 


less  than  a  hundred  and  sixty  of  those  wliom  he  consi- 
dered to  be  exposed  to  gTeal  it  peril.  On  their  arrival 
at  Paris,  they  were  received  by  Madame  Le  Gras,  who 
lodged  them  in  her  house.  Here  they  were  visited 
by  the  ladies  of  the  association,  who  made  their  case 
known  among"  their  personal  friends ;  and  it  was  not 
long  before  these  poor  emigrants  were  provided  with 
situations,  either  as  companions  or  as  servants,  accord- 
ing to  their  condition. 

But  scarcely  were  these  settled,  ere  another  call 
was  made  upon  the  charity  of  Vincent,  which  he  was 
the  last  person  to  withstand.  The  misery  which  he 
strove  so  nobly  to  relieve,  drove  multitudes  from  Lor- 
raine to  seek  for  help  in  other  parts  of  France.  Num- 
bers of  these  poor  outcasts  came  to  Paris,  and  went 
straight  to  St.  Lazarus,  as  though  Vincent  was  their 
natural  protector.  His  name  was  so  intimately  con- 
nected with  the  charity  they  had  experienced  in  their 
own  country,  that  by  a  sort  of  instinct  they  sought  out 
the  house  of  their  benefactor.  Thus  was  the  quiet 
priory  besieged  with  a  host  of  applicants.  None  knocked 
at  that  gate  m  vain.  If  they  were  provided  with  let- 
ters of  recommendation,  they  were,  of  course,  admitted  ; 
and  if  not,  their  distress  pleaded  irresistibly  in  their 
behalf.  For  all  these  Vincent  had  to  provide ;  and  he 
placed  them  in  the  village  of  La  Chapelle,  about  a  mile 
and  a  half  from  Paris,  where  he  gave  them  two  missions 
in  1G41  and  1642.  Gladly  did  they  avail  themselves 
of  these  means  of  grace,  of  which  the  troubles  at  home 
had  so  loiifj-  deprived  them ;  and  shortly  afterwards  they 
were  employed  either  in  domestic  service,  or  in  the 
trades  which  they  had  formerly  followed. 

Another  class  had  yet  to  be  assisted.  Among  the 
crowds  which  flocked  from  Lorraine  to  Paris  were  many 
persons  of  rank  who  had  literally  lost  their  all.  Their 
po'itioTi  wn"  fu.  worse  than  that  of  their  poor  neigh- 
bon:;;  to^  'm)w  could  they  make  their  wants  known? 
'i  how  could  tiK  y  endure  to  ask  for  charity,  and  lay 
bare  theii*  domestic  sorrov-    before  strang-ers  ?     Fortu- 


■r«ii 


I'm 


nm. 


m 


i'j^^'-''^. 


188 


ST.  VINCENT  DK  PAUL. 


nately  some  humane  person  discovered  what  they  would 
fain  conceal,  and  told  the  tale  of  woe  to  Vincent.  Our 
Saint  received  the  intelligence  with  a  thrill  of  joy  j  fc 
here  was  another  grief  to  which  he  could  minister.  Far 
from  shrinking  from  the  additional  charge  which  would 
thus  be  laid  upon  him,  he  exclaimed,  with  touching 
simplicity,  "  Oh,  sir,  you  are  doing  mo  a  great  favour ! 
Yes,  it  is  but  right  to  succour  these  poor  nohles ;  it  is 
a  way  of  lionouring  our  Saviour,  who  was  Himself  so 
nohly  born,  and  yet  withal  so  very  poor." 

The  course  which  Vincent  pursued  was  as  delicate 
and  considerate  as  charity  itself  could  suggest.  He 
called  together  some  six  or  eight  noblemen,  and  made 
them  acquainted  with  the  circumstances.  As  usual,  his 
words  imparted  his  own  spirit  to  those  who  were 
brought  in  contact  with  him.  Tliey  at  once  provided 
for  the  immediate  relief  of  the  sufferers,  and  deputed 
one  of  their  number  to  distribute  their  alnjs,  and  to 
make  such  inquiries  as  should  enable  them  to  regulate 
for  the  future  the  amount  of  relief  to  be  given,  accord- 
ing to  the  necessities  of  each  case.  The  young  Baion 
de  Renty  was  the  person  selected  for  this  difficult  task, 
and  he  discharged  his  office  with  all  the  zeal  which 
might  be  expected  in  one  who  had  so  early  in  life  given 
up  a  world  which  idolised  him,  to  devote  himself  to  the 
education  of  his  children  and  to  works  of  cliarity.  He 
made  his  report,  and  the  nobles  subsci-ibed  among  them- 
selves enough  for  the  requirements  ox  a  month ;  and  so 
the  good  work  went  on  from  month  to  month  for  up- 
wards of  twenty  years ;  and  long  after  the  orig-rnal  ob- 
ject had  ceased,  did  it  provide  means  for  other  needs, 
and  thus  became  in  Vincent's  hands  an  instrument  of 
continued  usefulness.  M.  de  Renty  and  his  noble  com- 
panions administered  their  relief  with  the  same  modest^'' 
and  simplicity  as  had  guided  Vincent  in  first  communi- 
cating to  them  his  design.  Their  visits  were  those  of 
fiiends  and  equals,  not  of  patrons ;  there  were  no  im- 
pertinent inquiries,  nothing  which  could  offend  native 
delicacy,  and  that  becoming  reserve  which  grows  more 


•uld 
Our 

ic- 
Fur 
ould 
hing 
our  I 

it  is 
jlf  so 

ilicate 

He 

made 

lal,  liis 
were 

ovided 
eputed 
and  to 
eg\dute 
accord- 
•  Baion 
lit  task, 
[  wliich 
fe  given 


!r 


CH.  "'^.I.]      SUPPERINQS  OF  LORRAINE. 


189 


sensitive  under  suffering-.  No  one's  self-respect  was 
wounded  by  the  assistance  which  these  nobles  rendered 
to  their  less  fortunate  brethren. 

When  the  wars  caine  to  an  end,  most  of  them  re- 
turned to  Lorraine,  Vincent's  thoughtful  generosity  pro- 
viding* for  them  even  to  the  last.  They  received  enough 
to  caiTj  them  home,  and  to  provide  for  them  in  their 
own  countiy  until  such  time  as  they  could  reoongtruct 
their  shattered  fortunes. 


'.;.v>t  ■ 


'.>■.'■■' 


'^i.-  -:'\ 


!5a 


[ijt.JEt 
ii'l 


JSfd 


w  -=^ 


ill ''ill 


140 


CHAPTER  XVIIL 

VINCENT  IN  OFFICE. 


The  year  10'13  saw  great  chang-es  in  France ;  and  for 
once  political  movements  drew  our  Saint  within  their 
circle.  In  the  ]  :,\^..o  iMjcem^)er  Cardinal  Richelieu 
had  died,  and  in  less  than  five  months  he  was  followed 
by  the  king"  whose  counsels  he  had  so  royally  swayed. 
Indeed,  it  was  one  of  those  periods  in  history  in  which 
the  g'reatest  personages  suddenly  pass  off  the  scene, 
and  the  drama  of  life  falls  into  new  hands  and  presents 
fresh  combinations.  Mary  de  Medicis,  too,  had  died  a 
few  months  before,  banished  by  the  very  man  she  had 
raised  to  eminence.  Thus  in  a  year  Louis  XIII.,  his 
mother,  and  his  great  minister  had  died,  and  Anne  of 
Austria  suddenly  lises  into  power.  She  appears  as  the 
centre  of  a  gToup  which  is  to  rival  that  -vhich  had  jus* 
disappeared,  and  to  which  it  bears  in  many  respects  a 
striking  resemblance. 

When  Henry  IV.  died,  in  1610,  his  widow,  Maiy 
de  Medicis,  became  regent;  and  Richeheu  was  her 
real  councillor  during  her  son's  minority,  though  un- 
worthy ffl  roui  'tes  influenced  lier  councils  to  the  injury 
and  di'^order  of  tlie  nation.  Thirty-three  years  liave 
pfi^^ed,  "iid  nov  another  regent,  Anne  of  Austria, 
sways  the  nation ;  while  at  her  right  hand  is  one  who, 
like  Richelieu,  wears  the  cardinal's  hat.  With  those 
who  iiiid  gone  to  their  account  Vincent  de  Paul  had 
no  political  connp.-'tion.  He  came  into  frequent  contact 
with  all  three ;  but  it  was  simply  in  his  character  as 
priest,  and  a  the  .igent  of  extensive  charities.  To 
Louis  XIIT.  ha*^  been  spiritual  director,  at  least  in 
his  last  daj  . ,  an(i  in  his  arms,  and  fortified  by  his 
ministrationr^,  did  thit  monarch  die.  In  Cardinal  Riche- 
lieu Vincent  liad  found  a  firm  friend  and  ft  zealous  cq- 


^' 


Hoi 

their 
lelieu 
owed 
ayed. 
(Vliich 
scene, 
•esents 
died  a 
tie  had 
II.,  his 
.nne  of 
5  as  the 
^ad  just 
pects  a 

,  Mai-y 
iras  her 
igh  ini- 
injury 
,vs  have 
Austria, 
ne  who, 
th  those 
>aul  had 
contact 
l-acter  as 
es.     To 
least  in 
by  his 
alRiche- 
a\ous  cq- 


CII.  XVIII.]  VI        ENT  IN  OFFICE.  141 

o|)erator  in  many  of  his  greatest  works ;  nor  had  our 
Saint's  influence  oeen  small  over  the  mind  and  actions 
of  that  bold  and  fearless  statesman.  "We  have  seen 
how  Richeheu  consulted  him  in  ecclesiastical  matters, 
and  how  through  Vincent's  hands  much  of  the  patron- 
age of  the  Church  was  dispensed.  Mary  de  Medicis, 
too,  liad  had  her  share  in  Vincent's  undertakings ;  but 
now,  under  the  new  regency,  he  has  a  part  to  phiy 
which  brings  him  into  immediate  and  daily  contact 
with  the  highest  personages  in  the  state  j  indeed,  he 
hecomes  himself  one  of  those  chief  personages  wlien  he 
is  appointed  to  a  seat  in  the  Council  of  Conscience. 

One  of  tlie  first  works  of  Anne  of  Austria,  on  enter- 
ing u])on  the  diflicult  oflice  of  regent,  was  to  devise  a 
plan  hy  which  abuse  in  the  appointment  to  chief  stations 
m  the  Church  mi^lit  he  prevented.  Richeheu  liad  too 
often  made  the  highest  ecclesiastical  offices  the  mere 
instruments  of  his  policy;  and  Louis  XIII.  with  his 
dying  breath  protested  to  Vincent  that,  should  hv  live 
longer,  he  would  appoint  no  one  to  a  bishopric  who  had 
not  spent  tliree  years  in  our  Saint's  house.  Vincent 
had,  it  is  true,  done  something  to  correct  this  abuse ; 
but  what  could  the  advice  even  of  such  a  man  avail 
when  gieat  political  advantages  or  personal  regard  came 
in  the  way  ?  At  leno-th,  however,  an  opportunity  was 
to  be  afforded  him  of  carrying  out  his  principles  fully, 
not  by  influencing  others,  but  by  having  the  power 
;)lacecl  in  his  own  hands.  The  queen  nominated  a  coun- 
f'il  of  four,  whose  duty  it  was  to  examine  all  matters 
affecting  religion,  and  to  decide  upon  the  qualifications 
of  those  who  were  recommend»?d  to  ecclesiastical  dig- 
nities. It  was  called  the  Council  of  Conscience ;  and 
consisted  of  Cardinal  Mazurin,  the  Chancellor  Seguier, 
the  Grand  Penitentiary  Charton,  and  Vincent  de  Paul. 
Our  Saint  shrank,  sis  well  he  might,  from  so  responsible 
and  high  a  post  j  he  saw  the  dangers  which  beset  him, 
the  hatred  he  must  bring  upon  himself  by  an  honest 
discharge  of  his  duty,  and  the  difliculty  of  following 
his  conscience  in  a  ooui'se  which  would  so  constantly 


T":-v, 


14^ 


8T.  VINCKNT  DE  PAUL. 


place  him  in  clirnct  nntngonism  to  Cardinal  Miizni-in ; 
wliile  Ills  lovo  of  humility  and  of  a  lowlv  station  must 
suffer  severely  by  the  dignity  and  grandeur  of  so  ele- 
vated a  position. 

Vincent's  penetrating'  eye  had  soon  read  the  heart 
of  Mazarin,  and  he  saw  how  little  there  was  in  com- 
mon between  them.  How,  then,  could  he  hope  to 
carry  out  the  pious  intentions  of  the  queen,  when  one 
so  influential  stood  in  his  way  ?  "We  shall  see  how  he 
succeeded ;  but  first  let  us  take  a  g-lanco  at  Cardinal 
Mazarin.  As  ambitious  as  his  all-powerful  predecessor, 
Mazarin  pursued  altogether  a  different  course  from 
Richelieu  in  aiming  at  the  supreme  authority.  The 
one  had  gone  straiglitfonvard  towards  the  end  to  be 
attained,  crushing  whatever  dared  to  oppose  him ; 
scorning  to  stoop  to  flattery  or  deceit,  he  awed  all  who 
came  into  his  presence,  and  bent  the  most  inflexible  to 
his  mighty  will.  Mazarin,  on  the  contrary,  was  all 
suppleness  and  diplomacy ;  with  bland  smiles  and  am- 
biguous words  he  crept  along,  bribing  where  he  could 
not  cajole,  and  crouching  where  he  could  not  otherwise 
win  his  way.  If  Richelieu  was  ferocious,  it  was  with 
the  heart  ot  a  lion ;  if  Mazarin  pleased,  it  was  with  the 
fascination  of  the  serpent.  If  the  former  was  an  enemy, 
he  was  at  least  open  and  sincere ;  but  the  friendship  of 
the  latter  could  never  be  trusted.  The  man  upon  whom 
Richelieu  frowned  knew  that  he  must  stand  aside  or 
prepare  for  war;  but  few  had  skill  to  read  Mazarin's 
countenance. 

It  was  with  Mazarin,  such  as  we  have  described 
him,  that  Vincent  had  to  contend ;  and  though  the  con- 
test may  seem  at  first  sight  unequal,  the  plain-dealing  and 
uprio'ht  policy  of  the  Saint  were  more  than  a  match  for 
the  finesse  and  duplicity  of  the  minister. 

The  particular  duty  which  the  regent  assigned  to 
Vincent  de  Paul  was,  to  receive  the  petitions  of  those 
who  sought  for  appomtraents,  or  who  applied  on  behalf 
of  others.  He  had  to  examme  their  claims  and  quaKfica- 
tions,  and  to  report  thereon.     A  more  difficult  or  deli- 


i*i  •; 


-:#    . 


CII.  XVIIl.] 


VINCENT  IN  OFFICE. 


143 


st 
.e- 

im- 
to 

one 
r  he 
[inol 
ssor, 
from 

The 
to  be 
him ; 
1  who 
ihle  to 
rtis  all 
id  am- 
9  could 
[levwise 

^g  with 

ith  the 

enemy, 

Iship  of 

.  w  liom 

iside  ov 
:azarin's 

lescvihed 
Ithe  con- 
\\\n»;  and 
iatch  for 

ligned  to 
I  of  those 
m  hehalf 
huahfica- 
or  deli- 


cuto  task  could  scarcely  bo  assif^iied  to  an  ecclesiastic, 
or  one  moro  certain  to  oxposo  Inni  to  niisrepresontution 
and  ()l)lo(|iiy ;  yet,  reg-ardless  alike  of  ju'uiso  or  blame, 
lie  cared  only  to  do  his  duty  to  the  reg-ent  and  to  the 
Church. 

For  a  time  Vincent  met  with  little  opposition  from 
Mazarin,  who  was  too  busy  in  establishing-  himself  in 
j)ower  to  bestow  much  attention  on  the  i)roceedings  of 
his  humble  collea|^ue ;  but  before  long"  the  cardinal 
found  him  a  sad  impediment  in  the  course  of  his  policy. 
Mazarin  had  many  enemies  whom  he  desired  to  g-ain 
over:  the  great  families  looked  with  jealousy  on  this 
Roman  adventurer,  who  had  not  Ion"*  since  been  a 
soldier  in  the  Italian  campuigTi,  and  wlio  liail  now,  at 
Richelieu's  advice,  been  placed  in  so  high  a  station. 
They  had  feared  the  great  cardinal ;  and  now  they  hated 
and  despised  his  legacy  to  the  nation,  the  man  of  smiles 
and  deceit.  It  was  Mazariu's  |)olicy  to  buy  those  who 
stood  in  his  way,  and  whose  iniluence  could  thwtu-t  his 
purposes.  Unfortunately  he  had  precedent  enough  for 
regarding*  the  emoluments  and  di"*nities  of  the  Church 
as  mere  instniments  of  power  and  oribes  to  advance  his 
ends.  But  this  Council  of  Conscience  came  terribly  in 
liis  way ;  and  the  upright,  scrupulous,  and  fearless  Vin- 
cent de  Paul  was  the  very  worst  person  in  the  world  to 
understand  and  sympathise  with  the  difficulties  and 
requirements  of  the  minister. 

It  is  alike  amusing*  and  instructive  to  watch  the 
contest  between  the  two.  At  first  the  cardinal  pre- 
tended to  ig-nore  his  coUeag'ue,  and  began  to  nominate, 
without  consulting*  Vincent,  to  rich  abbeys  and  to  va- 
cant bishoprics,  looking*  only  to  his  own  interests  and 
the  influence  he  could  thereby  gain  with  this  nobleman 
or  with  that  great  family.  But  Vincent  quietly  cancelled 
these  appointments  by  refusing*  to  approve  them ;  and, 
as  Madame  de  Motteville  relates,  the  sclieming  minister 
found  him  to  be  a  man  '  all  of  a  picce,^  who  never  caved 
to  gain  the  good  graces  of  the  poweiful  men  at  court. 
The  queen  herself  supported  Vincent,  and  determined 


^1I.>;j: 


144 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


to  allovr  the  cardinal  to  make  no  such  appointments 
without  his  sanction.  Thus  was  his  power  confirmed, 
and  Mazarin  could  only  console  himself  by  sneering*  at 
Vincent,  and  mocking-  the  homely  dress  in  which  he 
aj)peared  at  court.  "  See,"  he  exclaimed,  taking*  hold 
of  Vincent's  old  cincture,  "  see  how  M.  Vincent  dresses 
to  come  to  court,  and  what  a  fine  girdle  he  wears !" 

Vincent  could  endure  with  a  better  g-race  the  sneers 
of  the  cardinal  than  the  respect  and  veneration  which 
others  sho,ved  him.  The  Princp  de  Conde  one  day 
tried  his  humility  severely,  when,  meeting*  him  at  the 
Palace  of  the  Louvre,  he  desired  him  to  sit  down  be- 
side him.  "  Your  Hig-hness  does  me  too  much  honour 
in  suffering-  me  to  remain  in  your  presence,"  exclaimed 
Vincent,  quite  loud  enough  to  be  heard  by  the  sur- 
rounding* courtiers ;  "I  who  am  the  son  of  a  poor 
swineherd."  The  answer  of  the  prince  was  as  grace- 
ful as  it  was  true :  "  Mor'ihns  et  vitd  nobilitattir  homo 
— (Behaviour  and  a  good  life  are  man's  true  nobility). 
Besides,"  he  added,  to  Vincent's  great  confusion,  "  it  is 
not  to-day  that  we  have  learned  your  merits." 

That  Vincent  should  offend  many  besides  the  car- 
dinal by  the  firmness  with  which  he  resisted  unworthy 
appointments,  was  only  to  be  expected;  but  tlie  extent 
to  which  people  carried  their  anger,  and  the  abusive 
language  in  which  they  indulged,  could  scarcely  be 
credited  in  these  days  of  refined  manners  and  polished 
speech.  On  one  occasion,  a  nobleman  of  very  high 
rank  failed  in  obtaining*  a  piece  of  preferment  for  one 
who  did  not  deserve  it,  and  justly  attributed  his  ill- 
success  to  the  opposition  of  Vincent.  Meeting  our 
Saint  a  few  days  afterwards  in  the  Louvre,  he  publicly 
insulted  ^'^  ir  Jie  grossest  manner.  The  regent  was 
informov  oi  cJiis  behaviour,  and  commanded  the  offend- 
ing* nobleman  to  quit  the  palace.  Vincent  was  over- 
whelmed with  confusion  at  what  would  have  been  a 
triumph  to  any  one  else,  and  entreated  that  his  reviler 
might  be  pai-doned  and  called  back;  and  so  earnestly 
did  he  press  his  suit,  that  the  queen  was  obliged  to 


its 
ed, 

at 

he 
LoU 
sses 

leei'S 
hicli 
day 
b  tlie 
iil)e- 
onour 
aimed 
3  sur- 
L  poor 
grace- 
•  homo 
bility). 
.  "  it  is 


CH.  XVIII.]  VINCENT  IN  OFFICE.  U5 

give  way,  in  spite  of  the  indig-nation  she  justly  felt  at 
the  manner  in  which  he  had  heen  treated. 

On  another  occasion  Vincent  prevented  the  appoint- 
ment of  an  improper  j)erson  to  a  bishopric,  and  by  so 
doing"  g'ave  great  otfence  to  the  family  of  the  disap- 
pointed man.  To  reveng'e  themselves,  they  invented  a 
calumny  against  Vincent,  to  which  they  contrived  to 
impart  a  plausible  colouring.  When  the  story  reached 
the  ears  of  the  queen,  she  took  the  earliest  opportunity 
of  asking  him  if  he  had  heard  that  sucli-and-such  a 
thing  was  laid  to  his  charge.  "  Madame,"  he  replied 
without  any  anxiety,  "  I  am  a  sinner."     "  But,     "^ 


ex- 


cliiimed  Anne  of  Austria,  "  you  must  be  defended." 
"  They  said  many  worse  things  against  our  Saviour," 
was  Vincent's  calm  reply. 

Once  his  equanimity  was  nearly  overcome,  when  a 
report  spread  through  Paris  that  he  had  bartered  a 
benefice  for  a  library  and  a  large  sum  of  money. 
Roused  by  this  unjust  attack,  he  took  pen  in  hand  to 
defend  himself;  but  a  moment's  reflection  caused  him 


10  throw  it  down,  exclaiming :  "  Miserable  creature 
that  I  am!  what  am  I  about!*  Do  I  wish  to  justify 
myself;  when  we  have  just  heard  that  a  Christian, 
falsely  accused  at  Tunis,  has  endured  torture  for  three 
days,  and  at  last  has  died,  without  uttering  a  single 
complaint,  although  he  was  innocent  of  the  crime  laid 
to  his  charge  ?  No,  it  shall  not  be."  He  rose  from 
the  table,  and  took  no  pains  to  contradict  the  calumny. 
When  the  propagator  of  the  falsehood  died  shortly 
afterwards,  not  a  few  people  saw  in  that  death  a  token 
of  divine  judgment  upon  one  wRo  had  tried  thus  to  in- 
jure a  faithful  servant  of  the  Lord. 

In  spite  of  the  injunctions  of  the  queen,  who,  as  we 
have  seen,  forbade  him  to  make  any  ecclesiastical  ap- 
pointments without  first  referring  the  matter  to  Vincent 
for  examination,  Cardinal  Mazarin  occasionally  took 
advantage  of  our  Saint's  absence  from  court  to  nomi- 
nate persons  to  whom  he  was  under  obligations,  or  from 
whom  he  expected  support,  to  dignities  for  which  they 


l^"''i 


ik 


\  m 


146 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


were  quite  unfitted.  Abelly  has  preserved  an  anecdote 
which  shows  how  Vincent  acted  uj)on  one  of  tliese  oc- 
casions. One  day  he  received  a  letter  from  the  cardi- 
nal, who  was  with  tlie  court  in  the  country,  to  the  fol- 
lowing* effect : 

"Sir, — These  lines  are  to  inform  you  that  M.  N • 

lias  hastened  down  hither  to  ask  for  his  son  the  bishop- 
ric of  N ,  which  has  been  vacant  some  days.     The 

queen  has  granted  it  to  him  the  more  will  ng-ly  as  he 
has  the  requisite  qualifications;  and,  moreover,  her 
majesty  was  well  pleased  to  have  so  favourable  an  op- 
portunity of  acknowledg^ing"  in  the  person  of  the  son 
the  services  of  the  father,  and  the  zeal  he  has  sliown 
for  the  welfare  of  the  state.  The  queen  has  promised 
to  write  to  you  herself;  but  I  have  anticipated  her,  in 
order  that  you  may  take  the  trouble  to  see  him,  and 
give  him  such  instructions  and  sug-g-estions  as  you  may 
Judge  necessary  to  enable  him  to  discharge  satisfac- 
torily the  duties  of  his  office,  &c." 

The  receipt  of  this  note  gave  Vincent  no  small  pain, 
and  placed  him  in  a  very  difficidt  position.  On  the 
one  hand,  he  desired  to  })ay  all  due  deference  to  every 
act  of  tlie  queen  and  of  her  prime-minister;  but  on  the 
other,  he  well  knew  the  unfitness  of  tlie  ])erson  thus 
nominated  for  the  episcopiil  office,  and  especially  for 
the  ('iocese  in  question,  which  was  very  extensive,  and 
through  a  long  course  of  neglect  had  been  reduced  to 
a  most  dcplorabhi  condition.  What  could  he  do?  It 
was  too  l;it(;  to  aj)ply  to  the  (jueen  or  to  the  cardinal, 
for  tlie  royal  Wiirrant  had  already  been  issued ;  and 
even  if  he  succeeded  in  cancelling  tlie  ayvpointment,  he 
miji'ht  array  a"":iinst  the  crown  an  intiiuaice  which  at 

~  JO 

such  a  time  was  all-important.  There  was  liut  one 
course  open :  remain  silent  he  could  not ;  and  so  he 
took  a  bold  step.  The  fumily  which  had  obtained  this 
mark  of  tlie  royal  favoiu"  lionoured  Vincent  with  its 
friendsliij),  and  he  at  once  betakes  himself  to  the  fatlier 
who  had  thus  unwittinu'ly  done  his  best  to  ruin  the 
soul  of  liis  son.     He  arrives  at  their  residence;  and 


be 
c- 
li- 


op- 

Ihe 

i  he 
lier 
op- 
son 

lown 

[lised 

er,  in 
,  and 
I  may 
bisfac- 

1  pain, 
)n  tlie 

every 
on  the 
n  tlnis 

Iv  for 
and 


CH.  XVIII.]  VINCENT  IN  OFFICE.  147 

when  tlie  nobleman  looks  to  receive  congratulations 
upon  his  son's  promotion,  he  hears  from  Vincent  words 
which  startle  and  perplex  liim.  The  Saint  sets  plainly 
before  him  the  (pialities  and  virtues  whicli  are  neces- 
sary in  a  bishop,  and  contrasts  with  these  the  character 
of  the  young-  ecclesiastic.  He  then  most  solemnly 
warns  him  to  return  the  appointment  into  the  queen's 
hands,  if  he  would  nort  expose  himself  and  his  house 
to  the  wrath  of  Him  who  threatens  with  such  severe 
punishments  unworthy  and  mercenary  pastors.  The 
father  trembles ;  he  is  not  a  bad  or  an  irreligious  man, 
but  he  has  learned  to  judge  with  the  world  about  sa- 
cred things,  and  to  regard  the  emoluments  and  dignity 
of  the  position  rather  than  the  sacredness  of  the  office 
and  the  heavy  responsibilities  it  involves.  He  feels  the 
truth  of  what  Vincent  presses  with  so  much  earnest- 
ness ;  and  while  he  promises  to  consider  his  words,  he 
has  the  grace  to  thank  him  for  his  unpalatable  advice. 

But,  alas  for  the  weakness  of  poor  human  nature  ! 
The  good  intention,  which  seemed  for  a  time  to  influ- 
ence him,  vanished  ere  it  could  produce  any  fruit ;  the 
voice  of  conscience  was  drowned  in  the  clamour  of 
worldly  considerations.  In  a  few  days  Vincent  had 
occasion  to  call  upon  this  nobleman  upon  some  other 
business,  and  he  was  received  with  the  exclamation, 
"  Oh,  M.  Vincent,  you  have  disturbed  my  rest  for  seve- 
ral nights !"  and  then  he  had  to  lis^fcen  to  the  usual 
excuses  with  which  men  strive  to  close  their  eyes  to 
duties  which  are  distasteful;  fhe  state  of  his  affairs, 
his  advanced  years,  the  number  of  his  children,  and 
the  duty  of  providing  for  them  before  his  death.  And 
then,  to  hear  the  means  he  had  devised  for  surrounding 
his  unworthy  son  with  sage  and  holy  councillors,  and 
tlie  good  he  expected  the  diocese  would  hence  derive ! 
The  infatuated  parent  had  persuaded  himself  that  it 
was  a  positive  duty  to  grasp  at  so  glittering  a  prize. 
Vincent  heard  all  in  silence,  and  made  no  reply  to  rea- 
sons which  could  scarcely  blii;ii  him  who  so  warmly 
urged   them.     He  had   done   liis  best  to  preserve  a 


iii 


III  •■is  Hi 


m 

P'l  ■  ■'  ■■ 


1  '"m 


148 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


young  friend  from  niin ;  he  could  do  no  more :  he 
left  the  matter  in  the  hands  of  GoU.  And  terrible  was 
the  penalty  which  the  family  paid  for  the  act  of  sacri- 
lege. The  new  bishop,  full  of  life  and  li'^ne,  had 
scarcely  been  consecrated  when  the  hand  of  death 
smote  him  j  and  the  broken-hearted  father  sp.ee;lily 
followed  to  the  grave  the  son  whom  he  had  sacrificed 
to  his  ambition. 

One  more  anecdote  we  must  relate,  in  connection 
with  the  trials  which  Vincent's  firmness  and  uprioht- 
ness  brought  upon  him  in  the  discharge  of  these  deli- 
cate and  arduous  duties.  A  lady  of  high  rank  recom- 
me^jded  her  son  to  Vincent  for  a  bishopric.  As  the 
Saint  knew  nothing  of  his  character,  he  merely  replied, 
that  he  would  inquire  into  the  matter ;  he  did  so,  and 
finding  the  son  to  be  unworthy  of  the  appointment,  he 
named  some  one  else,  who  thereupon  was  promoted  to 
the  dignity.  As  soon  as  the  lady  was  acquainted  with 
the  fact,  she  desired  the  servant  of  God  to  call  u})on 
her.  Vincent  went,  accompanied,  as  usual,  by  one  of 
the  brothers,  who  waited  in  the  ante-chamber,  while  113 
himself  passed  into  the  saloon.  The  lady  received  him 
with  a  torrent  of  abuse,  and  was  so  violent  in  her  anger, 
that  the  brother,  thinking  her  mad,  rushed  hastily  into 
the  apartment.  As  he  entered,  the  fury  hurled  at  the 
head  of  Vincent  a  heavy  silver  lamp,  which  struck  him 
on  the  face.  Vincent  turned  his  bleeding  countenance 
towards  his  affrighted  companion,  and  said,  as  he 
quietly  wiped  away  the  blood,  "  It  is  nothing,  my 
brother ;  it  is  only  the  excess  of  a  mother's  love," 

Thu^,  amid  many  difficulties  and  much  opposition, 
Vincent  pursued  the  path  which  conscience  had  marked 
out  for  \'m  in  hi«  high  and  responsible  station.  The 
good  whiiii  icsulted  to  the  Church  wp'^'  gi-eat  beyond 
expression.  At  any  time  so  upright  a  minister  could 
not  fail  to  i  dvance  the  cause  of  religion ;  but  in  such 
an  age  Vincent's  appointment  was  an  especial  blessing. 
His  indefatigable  industry  left  no  stone  unturaed  which 
could  bring  to  light  any  evidence  respecting  those  who 


M  I 


kition, 
larked 
The 
3yond 
I  could 
such 
Issing;. 
Iwliicii 
wbo 


CH    XVIII.J  VINCENT  IN  OFFICE.  149 

sought  preferment,  so  there  could  be  no  excuse  for  the 
appointment  of  unworthy  persons ;  while  his  dilig'ence 
was  equally  g-reat  in  finc^ing-  out  and  advancing  the  in- 
terests of  those  whose  modesty  ai.  I  worth  shrank  from 
that  indecent  contest  for  place  whicx.  so  generally  pre- 
vailed. 

The  French  Bishops  found  in  Vincent  a  zealous  cham- 
pion and  a  faithful  servant ;  while  his  prudence  healed 
many  a  quarrel,  which,  hut  for  him,  might  have  had 
disastrous  consequences.  .  The  practice  of  rippealing  to 
temporal  courts,  however  well  in^entioned  in  its  origin, 
had  grown  int  a  great  ahuse>  anvl  weakened  considcr- 
ahlv  the  discipline  of  the  Church.  Vincent's  wisdom 
and  charity  corrected  the  evil  in  a  way  which  could 
give  a  triumph  to  no  party,  lie  consulted  with  the 
President  Mole  to  remedy  the  disorder,  and  at  the  same 
time  humbly  suggested  to  the  princes  of  the  Church, 
that  mildness,  patience,  and  even  self-humiliation,  ought 
to  be  their  first  weapons ;  and  that  they  should  never 
resort  to  excommunication  until  these  had  faih^d.  His 
counsel  was,  that  they  should  try  before  all  thinp-s  to 
reclaim  those  ecclesiastics  whom  the  disorders  of  tlie 
times  hr,d  corrupted;  and  that  they  should  use  the 
same  means  as  our  Lord  had  employed  to  convert  sin- 
ners. It  was  his  task;  moreover,  to  bring  back  reli- 
gious houses  to  the  observance  of  tlieir  rule,  and  to  in- 
fuse into  them  the  spirit  of  their  order.  'J'o  this  end, 
he  prev'jnted  the  appointment  of  superiors  who  owed 
their  nomination  to  human  considerations ;  and  when 
the  nomination  lay  with  the  king,  he  was  sure  to  select 
the  best  fitted  for  the  office,  without  any  regard  to  po- 
litical or  personal  interest.  He  was  pariicularly  anxious 
to  prevent  any  thing  like  family  interest  or  connection 
being  mixed  up  with  such  appointments,  and  refused 
to  sanction  the  recommendation  of  abbesses  and  others 
who  wished  their  sisters  or  nieces  to  succeed  them. 

Vincent  de  Paul  was  a  gi'eat  church- restorer ;  and 
plenty  of  room  was  there  for  the  exercise  of  this  func- 
tion in  a  land  which  had  so  long  been  ravaged  by  civil 


M 


150 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


and  religious  warfare.  The  zeal  which  in  early  life 
had  shown  itself  for  the  giory  of  the  Lord's  house  in 
the  cure  of  Clichy,  found  full  vent  in  the  member  of 
the  Council  of  Conscience.  He  was  vig-ilant  to  see  that 
those  who  held  living's  kept  thoir  churches  in  repair, 
instead  of  allowing  them  to  fall  into  ruin,  as  was  too 
often  the  case  in  days  when  men  scrupled  not  to  receive 
the  incomes  of  parishes  and  abbeys  which  they  never 
deigned  to  visit.  His  authority  procured  edicts  against 
blasphemy  and  duelling,  while  it  restrained  the  licen- 
tiousness both  of  the  theatre  and  of  the  press.  To  him 
is  also  due  the  credit  of  abolishing  the  evil  custom  of 
rewarding  military  merit  with  ecclesiastical  preferment; 
but,  at  the  same  time,  he  was  careful  to  secure  })ensions 
for  those  who  by  their  courage  and  serA  ieos  merited 
well  of  their  country. 

It  can  scarcely  be  necessary  to  state,  that  Vincent 
acted  in  a  s})irit  of  pure  disinterestedness ;  that  while 
ho  sought  out  the  deserving  for  promotion,  and  kei)t 
back  the  imwortlw,  he  had  one  object  alone  in  view, 
— the  glory  of  God.  Yet  we  may  almost  venture  to 
accuse  him  of  injustice  towards  his  own  order,  so  careful 
was  he  to  avoid  even  the  appearance  of  partiality.  Tlie 
temporalities  of  the  French  Church  n^ay  be  said  to  have 
passed  tlu'ough  his  hands ;  and  yet  ".lo  portion  of  them 
reached  his  own  houses,  Pooi*,  indeed,  his  brethren 
were,  and  by  their  abundant  alms  they  were  frequently 
reduced  to  absolute  want ;  yet  not  only  did  he  refuse  to 
solicit  for  them  any  share  in  that  secular  wealth  which 
he  might  so  easily  have  obtained,  but  lie  absolutely 
diverted  into  other  channels  tlie  assistance  which  the 
regent  designed  for  them.  We  may  here  relate,  that 
it  is  stated  on  what  seems  good  autliority,  that  Vincent 
had  great  ditiiculty  in  preventing  the  queen  from  pro- 
curing for  him  a  cardinal's  hat. 

Such  was  the  public  life  of  Vincent  de  Paul.  In 
the  midst  of  political  intrigue,  he  busied  himself  alone 
in  the  duties  of  his  office.  While  others  were  striving 
to  advance  their  personal  influence,  or  to  aggrandise 


CH.  XVIII.]  VINCENT  IN  OFFICE.  161 

themselves,  his  desire  was  to  slirink  back  into  the  ob- 
scurity he  loved,  and  to  lay  aside  a  dig-nity  which  had 
no  charms  for  him.     It  was  well  for  France  that  he 
was  not  allowed  to  abandon  his  post;  for  the  power 
thus  acquired  enabled  him  to  advance  still  more  rapidly 
that  moral  and  social  reform  to  which  his  life  was  de- 
voted.    His  missions  benefited  the  lower  classes ;  his 
exalted  station  brought  his  influence  to  bear  upon  the 
very  highest.     He  had  journeyed  from  place  to  place, 
and  had  thus  made  himself  acquainted  with  tlie  wants 
of  the  poor;  he  had  seen  how  their  spiritual  welfare 
was  neglected,  how  a  vicious  system  of  patronage  had 
squandered  among*  the  undeserving*  the  revenues  which 
piety  had  dedicated  to  the  service  of  God,  and  how  the 
necessary  results  had  too  surely  followed  in  the  ignor- 
ance and  barbarism  of  the  people.     He  had  toiled  to 
alleviate  the  spiritual  distress  which  the  horrors  of  civil 
war  had  augmented ;  and  now  the  time  had  come  when 
he  could  attack  these  evils  in  their  very  source,  and 
call  in  the  aid  of  the  highest  civil  and  ecclesiastical 
power  to  root  them  out.     It  smely  was  a  special  pro- 
vidence of  God  which  placed  Vincent  de  Paul  in  the 
Council  of  Conscience,  and  «'ave  liim  the  power  to  carry 
into  effect  the  reforms  whicu  he  knew  to  be  so  needful. 


152 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


VINCENT  AND  JANSENISM. 


These  two  names  come  together  only  as  lig-ht  and 
darkness,  truth  and  falseliood,  meet,  to  mark  a  contrast 
and  ilhistrate  a  natural  antagonism.  Tlie  miserahle 
heresy  which  bore  the  name  of  Jansenism  raised  its 
head  in  Vincent's  patli  only  to  be  trodden  under  foot  by 
that  faithful  son  of  holy  Church ;  but  its  propagator 
WHS  brought  into  too  close  connection  with  our  Saint 
for  us  to  pass  over  altogether  in  silence  the  rise  of  what 
tended,  for  a  while,  to  mar  so  considerably  the  great 
work  which  Vincent  hail  in  hand. 

There  were  two  stuilents  in  the  University  of  Lou- 
vain  whom  a  similarity  of  taste  and  dispositiim  had 
bound  together  in  ties  of  closest  intimacy.  Cornelius 
Jansenius  and  John  du  Verger  de  Hnuranne  had  alike 
imbibed  the  errors,  which  nut  long  before  had  been  con- 
demned in  the  Avritings  of  one  of  the  professors,  Jan- 
son,  and  also  in  those  of  the  Chancellor  of  the  Univer- 
sity, Bains.  After  leaving  Louvain,  they  again  met  at 
Bayonne,  the  native  place  of  Du  Verger,  where  Janse- 
nius remained  for  several  years  as  a  j)rofessor  in  the 
university ;  and  there  they  devised  a  ])lan  for  re-esta- 
blishing what  they  were  pleased  to  call  the  doctrine  of 
St.  Augustine,  which,  they  aihrmed,  had  not  been 
known  in  tlie  Church  for  many  ages.  After  a  time 
they  once  more  se])arated,  and  Du  Verger  became  Abbot 
of  ot.  Cyran  in  Berri.  By  this  name  he  is  best  known 
in  history,  and  with  him  we  are  principally  concerned ; 
for  though  Jansenius  gave  his  name  to  the  new  heresy, 
St.  Cyran  it  was  who  brought  it  into  France,  anci  by 
his  energy  and  ability  gave  it  a  power  which  the  book 
of  Jansenius  could  never  have  imparted  to  it. 


CH.  XIX.]  VINCENT  AND  JANSENISM. 


153 


Of  Jansenins  little  more  need  be  said.  He  was  made 
Bishop  of  Yures  in  Flanders,  and  died,  in  the  active 
discharge  v :  his  duties,  of  the  pla^ie,  which  raged  with 
gi'eat  violence  in  his  diocese.  He  lived,  however,  long 
enough  to  complete  his  book,  the  Avffustinus,  which 
obtained  such  notoriety  as  the  exponent  of  the  new 
heresy,  and  from  which  the  celebrated  five  proposi- 
tions were  drawn  which  were  formally  condemned  at 
Rome.  It  is  worthy  of  remark  that,  a  few  days  be- 
fore his  death,  Jansenius  wrote  to  Pope  Urban  VI 1 1, 
to  declare,  tliat  if  the  Holy  Father  wished  him  to  make 
any  alteration  in  his  woik,  he  would  sub^jjit  himself  to 
hi.n  with  an  entire  obedience;  and  not  many  minutes 
before  he  expired  he  repeated  this  declaration,  and 
added,  with  his  own  hand,  that  he  had  lived  as  an 
obi  ient  son  of  the  Church,  and  that  he  died  in  this 
obedience,  and  that  such  was  his  last  wish.  It  is  diffi- 
cult, however,  to  reconcile  with  this  seeming  submission 
to  the  Holy  See  the  fact,  that  Jansenius  took  every 
possible  care  to  have  his  work  published  nfter  his  deucli 
without  waiting  for  the  Papal  sanction.  May  not  the 
crafty  spirit  of  Jansenism  be  herein  observed,  even  thus 
early  ? 

But  less  ambiguous  was  th^^  conduct  of  St.  Cyran.  In 
the  year  1C37,  about  a  year  h'  fore  the  death  of  Janse- 
nius, he  took  up  his  residence  it.  Paris,  and  there  began 
covertly  to  introduce  the  heiesy  which  had  long  fer- 
mented in  his  mind.  Like  most  heresiarchs,  he  assumed 
a  great  austerity  of  life.  He  won  the  hearts  of  many 
by  the  zeal  with  which  he  declaimed  in  favour  of  the 
ancient  penitential  canons  of  discipline,  and  urged  the 
necessity  of  reviving  their  observance.  He  deplored 
the  coldness  and  ignorance  of  the  age  in  which  he 
lived,  and  thus  drew  around  him  those  who  aimed  at 
a  higher  standard,  and  whose  penetration  vvns  l»liiided 
by  Their  sympathy  with  what  s.   med  so  holy  and  j)ure. 

But  St.  Cyran  liad  his  eyes  upon  one  whose  influ- 
fcxiCe  was  perhaps  greater  than  th.it  of  any  otlici'  nifin  in 
the  religious  world  jf  Fiance.     He  aidently  longed  to 


M. 


t 


154 


8T.  VINCENT  DF.  PAUL. 


gftin  \  lucent  do  Paul  and  his  communi^'"'  to  his  side, 
arid  to  t  hat  end  he  soug-ht  and  obtained  ■ !.  .'liendship  of 
GUI'  Saint.  Impressed  with  his  zeal  and,  energy,  Vin- 
cent g'hidly  met  tlie  advances  of  one  who  seemed  to  liave 
the  same  olyect  in  view  with  himself,  and  many  were 
the  conferences  which  they  had  tog-ether.  For  a 
time  Vincent  remained  in  ig'norance  ol'  the  heretical 
opinions  of  his  friend ;  br.t  at  last  St.  Cyran  throw  off 
tlie  mask,  and  stood  revealed  before  him  in  his  tnie 
chnracter.  It  was  only  gTadiiiilly,  however,  that  the 
truth  broke  upon  oiu*  Saint.  At  one  time  St.  Cyran  as- 
tonished hii%l)y  a  defence  of  one  of  the  errors  ol  Calvin. 
Vincent  re])liecl,  that  the  doctrine  in  question  had  been 
condemned  by  the  Cluu'ch ;  whereupon  he  received  the 
astouiiding"  answer,  Bene  sen,sit,  sed  viah  loevtus  est 
(He  meant  well,  but  expressed  himself  ill);  by  which 
he  intended  to  say,  that  Calvin's  doctrine  was  true,  but 
badly  worded. 

Abelly  records  some  conversations  between  these 
two  men,  in  which  their  characters  and  principles  come 
out  hi  strong-  contrast. 

Oi .  one  occasion  St.  Cj'ran  had  the  boldness  to  main- 
tain f!,n  opinion  which  the  Council  of  Trent  had  con- 
demned. "  What,  sir !"  exclaimed  Vincent,  "  do  you 
wish  me  to  believe  a  sing-le  fallible  doctor  like  yourself 
rather  than  the  whole  Church,  which  is  '  the  pillar  of 
truth'  ?  She  teaches  me  one  thing*,  and  you  maintain 
the  very  opposite !  Oh,  sir,  how  can  you  venture  to 
prefer  your  own  judgment  to  that  of  the  wisest  heads 
in  the  world,  and  of  so  many  prelates  assembled  at  the 
Council  of  Trent,  who  have  decided  this  point?"  "  Speak 
to  me  no  more  of  that  council,"  sharply  replied  St. 
Cyran,  whose  wounded  vanity  made  him  at  the  mo- 
ment forget  all  discretion  and  prudence ;  "  it  was  a 
council  of  Pope  and  schooln^en,  brought  together  en- 
tirely by  intrigue  and  faction." 

Tlie  modesty  and  gentleness  of  Vincent's  manner 
led  St.  Cyran  to  imagine  that  he  could  easily  win  him 
over  to  nis  opinions :   he  saw  that,  in  spite  of  the 


en.  XIX.]  VINCENT  AND  JANSENISM. 


165 


mam- 
l  con- 
o  you 
virself 
liar  of 
intain 
lure  to 
heads 
at  the 
Speak 
led  St. 
le  mo- 
Iwas  a 
ler  en- 

lanner 

him 

lof  the 


himself  in  his  true 
J'um  lie  ^ave  utter- 
•e     "oily   and  vnnity 

eir  blasj)lierny  :  "  I 
vjrod  lins  g'ivcn,  and 


Btronp:  lan2'ung-e  he  had  used,  Vincent  still  occasionally 
visited  him  ;  and  ho  inter j)veted  tlii^  r-ondescension  into 
a  disposition  to  yield  to  liis  o|)ini()!is  wlif^n,  in  fact,  it 
was  occasioned  solely  by  our  Saint's  anxiety  to  deliver 
his  friend  from  the  spiritntl  danglers  with  which  he 
perceived  him  to  he  sun  out      I. 

At  leng'th  St.  Cyran  jsn, 
colours.     In  a  sulisequer*^  C( 
ance   to   the   fcdlowinj^ 
of  which  are  only  exceeded 
confess  to  you,"  ho  said,  "t, 

still  {j^'ives,  me  g-rent  lig'ht ;  lie  has  made  known  to  me 
that  there  has  been  no  Church  for  five  or  six  hundred 
years.  Before  that  time  she  was  like  a  niig-hty  river 
whose  waters  were  clear  and  pure,  but  now  what  seems 
to  us  to  be  the  Church  is  nothing*  but  a  sloug-h.  The 
bed  of  this  noble  river  is  still  the  same,  but  the  Avaters 
are  chang'ed."  Vincent  replied  with  firmness,  yet  with 
his  usual  sweetness,  "  What,  sir !  will  you  rather  believe 
your  private  opinions  than  the  word  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  who  said  that  lie  would  build  His  Church  upon 
a  rock,  and  the  g-ates  of  hell  should  not  ])revail  ag-ainst 
it?  The  Church  is  His  spouse.  lie  will  never  aban- 
don it,  and  the  Holy  Ghost  never  ceases  to  assist  it." 
Simple  and  conclusive  as  was  this  reasoning',  it  served 
only  to  increase  the  violence  of  St.  Cyran.  "  It  is 
true,"  he  replied  haug-htily,  "  that  Jesus  Christ  has 
built  His  Chiu'ch  upon  a  rock ;  but  there  is  a  time  to 
build  and  a  time  to  pull  down.  She  was  His  spouse," 
he  added,  gTowing*  more  and  more  heated,  "but  now 
she  is  an  adulteress,  a  prostitute,  and  therefore  it  is  that 
He  has  put  her  away ;  and  it  is  His  will  that  another 
fihould  occupy  her  place."  Vincent's  countenance  ex- 
"•jressed  the  horror  which  he  felt  at  such  blaspliemy; 
and  St.  Cyran,  feeling  that  his  hopps  were  g'one,  and 
that  nothing'  could  be  gained  from  the  devout  mis- 
sionary, turned  with  all  the  violence  of  his  character 
upon  one  who  had  treated  him  with  so  much  g-entle- 
ness,  and  exclaimed  passionatxjly,   "  You  understand 


'#,71.'  ,  ■ 


^"■'IJ 


;: 


''^>. 


9.  ^^r. 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


'^^     ./lV4o 


1.0 


I.I 


1^  1^  IIIIIM 


12.2 


1.25 


U    1 1.6 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


m3 


1 


f\ 


:\ 


V 


\ 


% 


V 


'^\%/'^ 


«^ 


'«b 


33  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


& 


156 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


.?.?.•&  1 


none  of  these  things ;  you  are  an  utter  ignoramus,  and 
instead  of  being  at  the  head  of  your  Congregation,  you 
deserve  to  be  driven  dtit  of  it  altogether :  I  am  only 
surprised  that  you  are  tolerated  at  all."  "  I  am  more 
surprised  than  you,"  was  the  quiet  answer  of  the  holy 
man ;  "  I  know  well  that  if  tliey  did  me  justice  they 
would  not  fail  to  send  me  away,  for  I  am  even  more 
ignorant  than  you  suppose  me  to  be*' 

This  was  their  last  familiar  interview.  Vincent  saw 
that  he  could  do  no  good  by  arguing  with  one  so  lost 
in  enor  and  spiritual  pride,  and  he  could  take  no  plea- 
sure in  the  society  of  a  man  who  indulged  in  such  im- 
piety. Before  long  Richelieu  cast  the  heretic  into 
prison  at  Vincennes.  St.  Cyran  had  made  many  friends, 
and  these  were  now  urgent  with  the  cardinal  for  his 
release;  but  Richelieu  was  inflexible.  He  saw  how 
dangerous  the  man  was  to  the  peace  of  the  Church,  and 
he  had  learnt  wisdom  from  the  mistakes  of  othei-s.  His 
reply  was,  that  if  Luther  and  Calvin  had  been  treated 
in  the  same  way  when  they  first  began  to  move,  the 
Church  and  the  world  would  both  have  been  spared 
torrents  of  blood  and  of  tears. 

But  quick  as  Richelieu  had  been  to  discern  the  true 
character  and  pernicious  influence  of  St.  Cyran,  and 
promptly  as  he  had  acted  upon  that  discovery,  he  was 
too  late  to  accomplish  the  object  he  had  in  view.  The 
seed  had  been  sown,  and  the  heretic  had  done  his  evil 
work,  ere  Vincennes  had  received  him  within  its  walls. 
He  remained  in  prison  four  years,  and  was  released  only 
on  the  death  of  Richelieu  in  1642.  He  lived  but  one 
year  after ;  but  long  enough  to  see  the  heresy  he  had 

Jropagated  inoculate  with  its  poison  many  noble  minds, 
ansenius  died,  as  we  have  seen,  in  1638 ;  and  his  famous 
work,  the  Augustinus,  appeared  in  1640.  In  this  he 
teaches  the  heresy  which  bears  his  name,  and  which, 
among  other  things,  denies  free-will  to  man,  makes  God 
the  author  of  evil,  and  rejects  the. doctrine  of  universal 
redemption.  St.  Cyran  seconded  with  all  liis  energies 
the  posthumous  work  of  his  friend,  and  Port-Royal 


CH.  XIX.]  VINCENT  AND  JANSENISM. 


167 


true 

and 

was 

The 

evil 

walls. 

lonly 

it  one 
had 

ninds. 


where  his  influence  with  the  Amaulds  was  great,  threw 
the  weight  of  its  mighty  name  into  the  same  scale. 
"   But  a  CTeat  blow  was  given  to  their  combined  eflbrts 
by  Urban  VI II.,  who  in  1641  declaimed  that  this  work 
revived  the  propositions  of  Baius,  which  had  bee'^« 
already  condemned  by  St.  Pius  V.  and  by  Gregory 
XIII.    The  controversy  raged  with  gi-eat  fiiry  in  Pans 
for  several  years ;  Antoine  Amauld  defending  the  new 
heresy  in  three  successive  "Ajjoloo-ies  for  Jansenius." 
It  was  at  this  time  that  Nicholas  Comet  drew  up  the 
celebrated  five  propositions  which  embodied  the  princi- 
pal doctrines  of  the  Avgustinus,  and  which  were  form- 
ally condemned  by  the  ^orbonne  in  1649.  The  Jansenists 
appealed  to  the  parliament,  and  obtained  an  injunc- 
tion that  no  further  steps  should  be  taken  against  them. 
It  was  then  found  necessary,  in  order  to  terminate  the 
dispute,  to  urge  the  Holy  Father  to  decide  the  question. 
This  important  letter  to  Innocent  X.  was  drawn  up  by 
the  Bishop  of  Vabres  at  St.  Lazanis,  under  the  eyes  of 
Vincent  de  Paul,  and  signed  by  the  Bishops  who  were 
present  at  the  assembly  of  the  clergy.     It  was  then 
sent  into  the  provinces  to  the  rest  of  the  episcopal  body, 
and  zealously  did  Vincent  labour  to  induce  all  to  unite 
in  so  momentous  and  necessary  an  act.     Such  was  his 
success,  that  one  alone,  the  Bishop  of  LuQon,  reftised  to 
sign  it ;  while  two  others  suggested  that  the  question 
might  be  settled  by  an  injunction  to  both  sides  to 
refrain  from  controversv.    To  these  rernonstrants  Vin- 
cent  replied  in  a  strain  worthy  of  the  occasion,  insist- 
ing on  the  necessity  of  recognising  the  authority  of  the 
Holy  See,  and  of  submitting  to  its  judgnnent.   The  ])eti- 
tion  went  to  Rome  with  the  signatures  of  eighty -eight 
Bishops  attached  to  it. 

As  might  be  supposed,  the  Jansenists  did  not  re- 
inain  idle  during  this  movement.  They  failed  in  an 
attempt  to  dissuade  the  French  Bishops  from  signing 
the  petition,  and  then  resolved  upon  sending  three  ad- 
ditional agents  to  Rome  to  assist  one  whom  tliey  had 
already  commissioned  to  defend  their  cause  in  tne  ca- 


168 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


pitftl  of  Christendom.  The  chief  of  these,  Gorin  de 
Saint- Amour,  was  one  ,of  tlie  most  zealous  of  the  fac- 
tion, wliose  zeal,  however,  seems  to  have  exceeded  his 
knowledge ;  for  he  afterwards  declared  that  he  had  never 
read  the  book  which  he  was  so  ardent  in  upholding- ! 
Vincent  de  Paul  no  sooner  heard  of  this  deputation 
than  he  despatched  three  of  his  friends,  who  were  doc- 
tors of  the  Sorbonne,  to  watch  and  counteract  their 
schemes ;  and  difficult  enouo-h  did  tliey  find  their  task 
to  be  in  overcoming*  the  obstacles  which  the  skilful 
diplomatists  cast  in  the  way  of  an  immediate,  decision. 
But  in  spite  of  all  opposition  the  cause  progressed 
rapidly.  Innocent  X.  was  tlien  in  his  eighty-second 
year ;  but  with  an  energy  unexam})led  at  so  advanced 
an  age,  he  carried  throvigli  the  examination  of  the  five 
pi'opositions.  Three  times  a-week  was  the  venerable 
Pontiff  found  in  congregation  with  the  cardinals,  pro- 
longing the  sittings  for  three  or  four  hours  at  a  time ; 
and  such  was  the  influence  of  his  example,  that  every 
thing*  else  was  laid  aside  that  this  gi'eat  question  might 
be  fully  and  quickly  determined.  In  1C53  the  Pope 
condemned  the  Jansenistic  doctrines. 

Great  indeed  was  the  joy  of  Vincent  when  the  glad 
tiding-s  reached  Paris ;  and  at  once  ho  took  all  due  means 
to  have  the  Papal  rescript  pron  .ted  and  obeyed. 
The  whole  episcopate  of  Franc b  .  ccepted  it  without 
hesitation  j  not  one  even  of  the  few  who  had  been  de- 
ceived by  the  Jansenists  refused  to  pronounce  the  ana- 
thema. But,  with  a  charity  equal  to  his  joy,  Vincent 
used  every  effort  to  unite  together  all  whom  this  heresy 
had  separated;  and  to  prevent  the  defenders  of  the  good 
cause  from  irritating  by  an  appearance  of  trhimph  those 
who  had  submitted  to  the  judgment.  He  went  to  Port- 
Royal,  that  stronghold  of  Jansenism,  where  St.  Cyran 
had  been  all-powerful,  and  where  the  family  of  Araauld 
all  but  worshipped  his  memory,  and  there,  in  the  midst 
of  the  chiefs  and  zealots  of  the  party,  he  spent  several 
hours  in  kindly  intercourse;  congratulating  them  on 
what  was  every  where  mmoured,  that  they  had  sub- 


o: 


ana- 
lincent 
lieresy 
g'ood 
tiiose 
Poit- 
jCyi-an 
Ivnauld 
midst 


CH.  XIX.]  VINCENT  AND  JANSENISM.  169 

mitted  unconditionally  to  the  Pnpal  decree.  His  heart 
was  iilled  with  joy,  for  all  declared  that  the  report  was 
true ;  Peter  had  spoken,  and  therefore  the  matter  was 
concluded. 

But  these  fair  promises  were  soon  ])roved  to  be  in- 
sincere ;  and  no  wonder,  for  deceit  and  equivocation  are 
of  the  very  essence  of  Jansenism.  It  had  not  even 
the  hardihood  of  Protestantism,  which  openly  aban- 
doned the  Church  whose  teaching*  it  rejected;  but  it 
sought,  by  false  dealing'  and  ambiguous  language,  to 
retain  a  place  within  the  one  fold.  Its  policy  was 
never  outwardly  to  abandon  communion  with  Romej 
never,  in  so  many  words,  to  refuse  submission  to  autho- 
rity ;  but  to  resort  to  a  host  of  subtleties  for  the  purpose 
of  explaining  away  the  decisions  of  the  Holy  See,  and 
in  reality  to  persist  in  its  rebellion  all  the  time  that  it 
pretended  to  yield  the  most  implicit  obedience.  Thus, 
on  the  present  occasion,  Aniauld  took  the  lead  in  throw- 
ing doubts  upon  the  condemnation.  The  j)retence  was, 
that  the  propositions  condemned  were  not  those  of  Jan- 
senius ;  although,  previous  to  their  condemnation,  they 
were  allowed  to  be  a  fair  exposition  of  his  doctrines.  To 
remove  the  doubts  thus  raised,  thirty -nine  Bishops  assem- 
bled at  Palis,  in  March  1654,  and  named  a  commission 
of  eight  of  their  body  to  examine  the  different  interpre- 
tations by  which  the  Jansenists  sought  to  render  the 
Papal  rescript  of  no  effect.  Ten  meetings  were  held,  in 
which  the  text  of  the  Augtistin'us  was  compared  with 
the  five  propositions,  and  the  writings  put  forth  in  de- 
fence of  that  book  were  most  closely  examined.  The 
result  was,  that  the  committee  declared,  "that  the 
Pope's  constitution  had  condemned  the  five  propositions 
as  contained  in  the  book  of  Jansenius,  and  in  the  sense 
of  Jansenius."  Innocent  X.  approved  of  this  judgment 
in  a  bi'ief  which  he  addressed  to  the  general  assembly 
of  the  clergy  of  France  in  Sept.  1654;  and  in  it  he  de- 
clared, "  that  by  his  former  constitution  he  had  con- 
demned, in  the  five  propositions,  the  doctrine  of  Cornelius 
Jansenius,  contained  in  his  book  called  August'vitLS. 


160 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


Equivocation  could  no  longer  avail  the  Jansenists  in 
this  direction ;  so  they,  turned  their  forces  to  another 
point,  and  Amauld  put  forth  the  opinion  that  the  Church 
IS  infallible  only  on  questions  of  dogma,  and  not  on  dog- 
matic facts.  Thus  the  controversy  took  a  new  form, 
and  ra^ed  as  fiercely  as  ever. 

When  Innocent  died,  he  was  succeeded  by  Alex- 
ander VII.,  who  had  been  one  of  the  chief  commissioners 
in  the  examination  of  the  five  propositions.  In  1656 
he  made  a  new  constitution,  by  which  he  confirmed  in 
every  point  that  of  his  predecessor.  In  this  he  described 
as  disturbers  of  the  public  peace  and  children  of  iniquity 
those  who  maintain  that  the  five  propositions  are  not 
found  in  the  book  of  Jansenius ;  but  that  they  are  forge- 
ries, and  that  they  have  not  been  condemned  in  the  sense 
of  that  author.  This  constitution  was  gladly  received 
by  the  general  assembly  of  the  clergy  at  Paris  in  1657, 
and  by  that  body  it  was  ordered  to  be  published  and 
carried  into  execution  in  every  diocese  by  the  Bishops. 
It  also  drew  up  a  imiform  formulary  of  faith,  which  was 
to  be  every  where  subscribed.  There  seemed  no  loop- 
hole for  the  cunning  even  of  a  Jansenist ;  but  the  skill  of 
the  party  devised  a  memorable  expedient  for  escaping 
from  the  authority  of  the  Church  and  the  formulary 
which  it  prescribea.  "  No  one,"  said  Amauld  and  his 
party,  "is  obliged  to  submit  int&i'nally  to  the  judg- 
ment of  the  Pope  on  a  question  of  fact.  But  the  ques- 
tion on  which  the  Pope  has  pronounced  in  the  case  of 
the  book  AugustinuSj  is  a  question  of  fact.  There- 
fore we  are  not  obliged  to  receive,  contrary  to  our  own 
light,  what  the  Pope  has  pronounced  in  the  case  of  the 
book  Aufjustinus.  This  famous  syllogism  subverts, 
in  effect,  the  authority  of  the  Church,  and  indirectly 
denies  her  right  to  judge  authoritatively  of  dogmatic 
truth  or  of  eiTor  contained  in  books. 

Pierre  Nicole  and  Pascal  employed  their  skill  in  de- 
fending this  proposition,  and  tm*ned  away  from  the  real 
question  at  issue  into  an  unimportant  inquiry  as  to 
whether  the  condemned  propositions  were  contained  in 


en.  XIX.]  VINCRNT  AND  JANSENISM. 


lei 


Jansenius,  It  was  never  affirmed  that  tliose  proposi- 
tions were  taken  word  for  w»rd  from  the  book ;  but,  ai 
we  have  seen,  competent  authority  had  pronounced,  atter 
due  investigation,  that  they  were  substantially  contained 
in  the  Avyustinus.  The  celebrated  jProcincial  Let- 
ters of  Pascal  entirely  evaded  the  real  matter  in  dis- 
pute, and  wasted  their  sparkling*  wit  and  graphic  power 
upon  a  mere  shadow,  and  in  satirising*  those  who  had  so 
damaged  the  cause  he  and  his  party  had  at  heart.  Even 
Voltaire  confessed  that  Pascal  built  upon  a  false  foun- 
dation. 

In  vain  did  Vincent  use  every  effort  to  win  back 
these  self-deluded  men  to  a  loyal  and  tme-heai'ted  obe- 
dience. They  persisted  in  their  equivocation  and  de- 
ceit, and  he  directed  his  attention  to  the  preservation  of 
othei*s  from  the  poisonous  en*ors  which  they  were  so  in- 
dustriously but  stealthily  disseminating  on  every  side. 


11 


m  de- 

le  real 

as  to 

ledin 


■if:^- «•■     ■j'.Vi': 


162 


:^'"% 


CHAPTER  XX. 


THE  FOREIGN  MISSIONS. 


We  have  hitherto  said  nothing-  respecting'  the  missions 
wliicli  Vincent  de  Paul  and  his  community  gave  beyond 
the  hmits  of  France.  To  enter  fully  into  this  branch  of 
the  subject  would  require  far  more  space  than  can  here 
be  aiforded  j  we  must  therefore  content  ourselves  with 
a  passing  glance,  sufficient  to  show  the  beginnings  of  that 

freat  movement  which  in  time   carried  the  Lazarist 
'athera  into  all  parts  of  the  world. 

And  first  in  the  list  must  come  the  mission  to  Rome. 
In  1C38  Vincent  sent  one  of  his  Society  to  that  city  to 
arrange  several  impoi-tant  matters  respecting  the  Con- 

fregation.  This  business  was  in  due  time  despatched ; 
ut  not  before  M.  Louis  de  Breton  (such  was  the  name 
of  the  agent)  had  had  the  opportunity  of  carrying  out 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  Rome  the  missionary  schemes 
in  which  he  had  laboured  so  successfully  at  home.  In- 
deed, his  preaching  met  with  such  success,  that  Pope 
Urban  VIII.  expressed  a  wish  that  a  house  of  the  order 
should  be  established  in  the  metropolis  of  Christendom. 
Four  years  elapsed  before  Vincent  fourid  the  necessary 
means  for  accomplishing  the  wish  of  the  Holy  Father  j 
but  at  the  end  of  that  time,  thanks  to  the  charity  of  the 
Duchess  d'Aig*uillon,  a  certain  number  of  the  Fathers 
took  up  their  residence  in  Rome.  The  Pope  at  once 
engaged  them  in  the  arduous  duties  of  preparing  candi- 
dates for  ordination  by  spiritual  retreats,  in  visiting  the 
hospitals,  and  in  giving  missions  among*  the  country- 
people. 

There  were  peculiar  diflBculties  in  the  way  of  these 
missions,  which  it  required  all  the  zeal  and  self-denial 
of  the  Fathers  to  overcome.  The  Campagna  which 
surrounds  Rome  is,   as  every  one  knows,   principally 


OH.  XX.]  THE  FOREIQN  MISSIONS. 


168 


ions 

rond 

ihof 

here 

with 

[that 

zarist 

lome. 
ity  to 
Con- 
;ched  *, 
name 
g  out 
hemes 
In- 
Pope 
Older 
mdom. 
essary 
ather; 
of  the 
athevs 
,t  once 
candi- 
[ng*  the 
auntry- 

tf  these 
IWenial 
which 
icipally 


pasture-land,  wliere  herds  of  cattle  graze,  but  on  which 
no  permanent  residences  are  built,  on  account  of  tlie  un- 
healthiness  of  the  climate  at  certain  seasons  of  the  year. 
The  malaria  forbids  more  than  a  passing*  visit,  ancl  the 
consequence  is  that  there  are  no  villag-es ;  but  the  sliep- 
herds  carry  about  with  them  wherewithal  to  construct 
temporary  huts,  which  they  erect  wherever  they  may 
chance  to  pass  the  night.  The  questien  was,  how  to  get 
hold  of  so  nomadic  a  race,  which,  it  was  evident  enough, 
could  never  be  induced  to  frequent  distant  churches  so 
lono;-  as  they  remained  in  tlieir  present  ignorance  and  in- 
difference. There  was  only  one  coui-se  to  be  pursued ; 
if  the  shepherds  would  not  come  to  the  Fathers,  the 
Fathers  must  g-o  to  the  shepherds.  For  this  purpose 
the  missionaries  wandered  during  the  day  over  the  Cfam- 
pagna;  and  having  thus  made  acquaintance  with  the 
shepherds,  and  learnt  where  they  would  rest  at  sunset, 
had  less  difficulty  in  obtaining  admission  to  their  huts, 
and  instructing  them  in  their  religious  duties  during 
the  long  evenings. 

Suspicion  and  indifference  could  not  long  withstana 
the  zeal  and  self-devotion  of  men  who  shared  the  simple 
fare  and  hard  couch  of  tliese  neglected  people ;  and  it 
was  not  long  before  many  fervent  penitents  were  kneel- 
ing* at  the  feet  of  tiie  missionaries,  who  with  glad  hearts 
prei)aved  them  for  the  Divine  sacraments.  When  the 
different  groups  had  thus  in  turn  been  visitev:  ;  nd  won, 
it  was  no  hard  task  to  bring  them  together  in  the  nearest 
chapels ;  and  there,  on  Sundays  and  holidays,  might  be 
seen  feeding  devoutly  on  the  Bread  of  Life  those  who 
had  long  been  looked  upon  as  beyond  the  influence  of 
Holy  Church.  A  like  success  rewarded  the  labours  of 
the  missionaries  in  other  parts  of  the  Papal  dominions, 
especially  in  the  dioceses  of  Vi^erbo  and  Palestrina. 
Urban  VIII.  died  in  1C44;  but  his  successors  knew  how 
to  value  as  he  had  done  the  services  of  tlie  Lazarist 
Fathers,  and  to  their  charge  the  retreats  of  tlie  candi- 
dates foi'  oidination  were  exclusively  committed.  It 
may  sei-vo  to  assist  us  in  forming  some  idea  of  their  b- 


164 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


bours  in  Rome  to  observe,  that  during*  the  first  twenty- 
two  years  of  their  residence  in  that  city  they  gave  up- 
wards of  two  hundred  hiissions. 

Vincent,  as  the  reader  may  remember,  had  been  at 
Home  many  years  before,  on  his  retum  from  slavery. 
He  had  marked  with  a  bleeding  heai't  the  neglected 
state  ofthese  poor  shepherds;  and  now  he  is  able  to  send 
them  the  aid  lie  knew  they  so  much  required. 

But  while  he  bore  in  mind  the  neglected  state  of  the 
shei)herds  of  the  Campagna,  he  felt  still  more  irresisti- 
bly called  to  the  succour  of  those  poor  souls  who,  in  the 
states  of  Larbary,  were  languishing  in  slavery,  and  in 
hourly  danger  of  apostasy.  He  had  once  shared  their 
lot ;  and  though  ho  nad  tried  hard  to  conceal  fi'om  others 
the  suffeiings  he  had  undergone,  he  had  not  forgotten 
them.  The  long-desired  occasion  at  length  presented 
itself.  Louis  XIII.,  in  the  last  year  of  his  life,  gave 
Vincent  a  sum  of  five  hundred  pounds  for  this  very  pur- 
pose ;  and  our  Saint  selected  Julian  Gu^rin  for  the  ar- 
duous mission.  Julian  had  not  long  joined  the  Congre- 
gation, and  yearned  with  all  the  ardour  of  a  novice  for 
the  crown  of  martyrdom.  He  had  laid  aside  the  pro- 
fession of  a  soldier  to  place  himself  under  the  standard 
of  the  Cross;  and  his  parting  words  were  expressive  of 
the  true  heroic  spirit :  "  I  only  hope,"  he  said,  "  that 
God  will  gi'ant  me  the  privilege  of  oeing  impaled,  or  of 
suffering  something  worse,  for  His  sake."  His  success 
at  Tunis  was  wonderful.  He  gained  the  favour,  not 
only  of  the  Christians,  but  of  the  Mahometans  them- 
selves ;  even  the  Bey  held  him  in  high  esteem,  Chris- 
tian priest  though  he  was.  And  so,  wnen  he  had  toiled 
for  two  long  years,  and  found  that  the  work  grew  daily 
upon  his  hands,  he  told  the  Bey  that  he  must  have 
another  priest  to  help  him.  The  boldness  of  his  re- 
quest met  with  the  success  that  so  often  rewards  daring 
courage  among  infidels.  The  Bey  listened  with  kind- 
ness, and  granted  his  petition.  He  wrote  home,  and 
Vincent  sent  Jolm  le  Vaeher  to  be  his  colleague. 

On  his  arrival  at  Tunis,  Father  le  Vaeher  found  4 


«"•  «J  THE  rOREWN  „,ss,„«a. 

a  violent  death;  but  sumlvfhr^ ''"  "^^'d.-liis  was  net 

y«e  „n/wl,o,  like  a   r.  eS'S"?  '"'  ?'"^'«'-'«  ^"^ 
f '•  tfe  sheep.     On  Le  VaS  tl'l'"^'  '',''"''  '"'^  >»« 
fell,  not  onjj  of  fiUin,.  tlie  XL    f  i  •'""'•'',  """•''«»  "w 
come  to  assist,  but  ofoccunfc  tf '""  '''"""  '">  ''"d 
French  consul,  which  °m"Enlt^^  '-esponsible  ,K.st  of 
of  one  of  the  best  friends  of  th„- "•"'"'  "-y  the  death 
time  before  Vincent  cmild  rewi;'"*?-    ^'  ""'  """^ 
""■•e;  but  at  last  he  met  w  t         ^      !"  """^'Idly 
.  ™"«™tofthe8ove™rent  1  i  l""u  *?"''""'' '""'thi  " 
an   an  office;  impo~n\  woT  f  '"'"'''  ^°  '"P""- 
st'll  more  in  its  relation  titL  CI !"? »""?'  °*  "^o'  I"" 

i-tnncer„S  -,';-;--;i^  in  )^  lette.  several 

cs:r  *-«  ^""-^r^fst  ^sri„ts 

l^.nL"ttsr;ion?cont:tXct:S  ^'""T  ^'"'^  «' 
They  were  about  the  sameal       !f  """=''  8"ention. 

more  than  fifteen;  and  havinTtr"''"' ."^ """n  ^'"g 
ters  who  were  close  nei*hbo«?s   t1    P"''"  f""^'*  ^y  ^"^ 
condition  natural/..  „ttocl  „rf  1    '  *'i^  «""'a'-ity  of  their 
was  an  Eng-lish  i'rotitni       Tl  *"  ""o  another.    One 
tholic;  but-it  waVrfS  blre  Po^  "  ^'•»'^''  ^'- 
the  latter  to  bring  the  ELlfiiM  ?  f '  P™«  «"abW 
Their  sufferings  4esT:"t  •£«•'"  '^^  *""  «"«'• 
them  cruelly,  Snd  their  re&t'  f  T  """**«''^  *'*ated 
Islamism  embittered  thd    „!'     ""l'?,'"'  *'«  errors  of 
them.     Their  only  co„soLr         ""  "o'*  arainst 


n 


160 


ST.  VINCKNT  DK  PAUL. 


the  slaves  of  tlieir  own  nation.  The  English  boy  was 
on  Mieir  list,  and  his  froadom  would  have  Ibeon  siecured, 
but  that  in  abandoning'  Protestantism  he  had  forfeited 
the  sympathy  of  his  fellow-countrymen.  He  plainly 
told  them  that  he  was  now  a  Catholic,  and  that  such 
he  would  remain ;  and  so  they  left  him  in  captivity. 

The  cnielty  of  the  masters  seemed  every  day  to  in- 
crease; the  bastinado  was  applied  to  the  feet  of  the 
two  boys  till  they  could  feel  no  more  j  and  often  they 
sank  insensible  upon  the  ground,  where  their  cniel  tor- 
turers left  them  to  recover  their  senses.  One  day  the 
Eng'lish  boy  found  his  friend  nearly  dead  from  the  ef- 
fects of  the  savag;e  treatment  he  had  received.  Stoop- 
ing over  him,  he  called  him  by  his  name.  What  does 
he  hear  ? — the  poor  lad  regains  sufificient  consciousness 
to  remember  why  he  suft'ered,  though  not  enough  to 
recognise  his  fellow-sufferer,  and  he  utters  with  a  feeble 
voice  the  profession  of  faith  which  had  so  often  brought 
the  lash  upon  him :  "  I  am  a  Christian,  and  I  will  re- 
main a  Christian."  Overcome  by  the  perseverance  and 
the  suiferings  of  the  tender  confessor,  the  young  Saxon 
weeps  affectionately  over  his  friend,  and  reverently 
kisses  tlie  wounds  of  one  who  had  done  such  great 
things  for  his  soul.  Some  Mahometans  pass  by,  and, 
observing  the  behaviour  of  the  lad,  ask  him  what  he  is 
doing".  "  I  honour  the  limbs  which  have  endured  so 
much  for  Jesus  Christ,  my  Saviour  and  my  God !"  and 
this  heroic  reply  wins  for  him  a  renewal  of  suffering, 
and  with  the  suffering  an  increase  of  merit. 

When  the  French  boy  was  sufficiently  recovered, 
he  paid  his  companion  a  visit ;  and  found  him  in  the 
midst  of  his  tormentors,  who  were  treating  him  with 
more  than  their  usual  cruelty.  Exasperated  at  tJje 
siglit,  he  cried,  ''  Do  you  love  Jesus  Christ  better  than 
Maliomet  ?"  The  words  rekindled  the  energies  of  the 
half-dead  child;  and  gathering  up  what  little  strength 
remained,  he  exclaimed,  "  I  love  Jesus  Christ  above  all 
things,  and  wish  to  live  and  die  for  Him."  The  anger 
of  the  infidels  was  at  once  divei-ted  from  their  victim 


TH.  XX.]  THE  FOREION  MISSIONS. 


167 


as 
>d, 
ed 

dy 

ich 

in- 

the 

hoy 

tor- 
tile 

)  ef- 

oop- 

(loes 

sness 

>U  to  ^ 

eeble  ' 

)nglit 

ill  re- 

je  and 

Saxon 

rently 
great 
,  and, 
he  is 
ed  so 
and 
fering, 

Uered, 
[in  the 
with 
[at  the 
\v  than 
1  of  the 
tvength 
love  all 
anger 
1  victim 


to  the  youth  who  had  thus  siuhUmly  interposed ;  nnd 
one  of*  th(*ni,  wlu)  curried  two  knives  in  his  girdh»,  ad- 
vanced towards  the  hid,  and  tln-eutened  to  cut  otl'  liis 
enrs.  Tlie  spirited  hoy  made  a  dush  at  one  of  tijo  knives, 
seized  it,  and  in  a  moment  cut  oH*  one  of  his  ears ;  then, 
liohlin'5'  it  up  to  the  inHcUd,  ho  cried,  "  Do  you  want 
tlje  other  also?"  Strange  to  say,  from  this  moment 
the  persecution  ceased ;  the  masters  no  h)nger  tried  to 
shake  the  constancy  of  these  intrej)id  youths,  whose 
faith  seemed  only  to  grow  more  firm  by  suffering. 
One  more  year,  and  their  trials  were  at  an  end ;  the 
pestilence  which  then  raged  in  the  land  l)ore  them  off 
to  the  reward  which  awaits  such  noble-hearted  devo- 
tion. 

But  Vincent  was  not  content  with  gaining  an  open- 
ing for  liis  missionaries  in  Tunis ;  Algiers  yet  remained, 
with  its  20,000  slaves,  and  in  that  place  affairs  were  so 
badly  managed  by  tlie  French  consul  that  there  seemed 
a  still  greater  need  of  succour.  The  fii-st  step  was  to 
obtain  the  recal  of  this  inefficient  officer,  and  to  supply 
his  place  with  a  man  of  energy  and  true  Christian 
spirit.  Three  missionaries  were  tiien  sent,  who  speedily 
fell  victims  to  the  plague.  Their  places,  however,  were 
immediately  supplied  by  others;  and  this  mission,  so 
costly  in  life  and  means,  was  carried  on  by  Vincent's 
perseverance  in  spite  of  all  obstacles  and  discoiu-age- 
ments.  During  Ids  life,  it  is  calculated  that  u})wards  of 
60,000/.  were  spent,  in  the  states  of  Barbary  alone,  in 
delivering  captives  and  satisfying  the  cupidity  of  their 
rulers  and  oppressors.  The  tender-hearted  consul  in- 
volved himself  in  heavy  debts  for  the  libeiation  of  ])eo- 
ple  who  never  thought  of  repaying  him,  and  even  Vin- 
cent had  to  exhort  him  to  greater  circumspection.  But 
however  costly  these  missions  might  be,  the  good  they 
effected  was  beyond  all  price.  The  slaves,  hitherto 
neglected  and  exposed  to  every  danger  of  apostasy  and 
moral  ruin,  were  now  carefully  instructed  in  their  duties 
and  provided  with  the  consolations  of  religion ;  the 
missionai-ies  sought  them  out  in  their  obscure  prisons, 


m 


168 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


I 


converted  the  renegadt's,  sustained  the  weak,  and 
Lroug'ht  many  an  infidel-into  tlie  true  fold. 

It  was  a  fortunate  day  for  Barbary  when  Vincent 
was  carried  into  captivity;  for  the  knowledge  he  then 
acquired  led  to  the  efforts  we  have  just  beheld  for  its 
spiritual  gain.  Men  little  imagined  that  the  youn^ 
student  who,  in  1605,  "was  sold  in  the  market-place  as 
a  slave,  would  one  day  send  forth  to  the  same  spot 
those  who  should  alleviate  the  miseries  in  which  he  then 
shared,  and  preach  the  faith  which  in  his  own  person 
he  had  so  well  illustrated. 

Another  spot  on  which  the  zeal  and  devotion  of  the 
Fathers  of  the  Mission  found  full  occupation  and  met 
with  complete  success  was  Genoa.  In  1645,  the  Car- 
dinal Archbishop,  Durazzo,  called  in  the  aid  of  the 
missionaries,  and  threw  himself  heart  and  soul  into  the 
work  which  was  immediately  begim.  Genoa  was  in  a 
terrible  state ;  the  people  were  punged  in  the  grossest 
ig-norance,  and  preserved  little  more  than  the  outward 
form  of  Christianity.  The  heart  of  the  good  cardinal 
was  well-nigh  broken,  so  unpromising*  was  the  prospect 
before  him ;  but  God  upheld  him  in  his  untiring  exer- 
tions for  the  poor  sinners  committed  to  his  care,  and  in 
the  end  the  reward  was  gTeat.  Ably  seconding  the 
efforts  of  the  Archbishop,  the  missionaries  brought  to 
bear  upon  the  diocese  the  whole  of  tliat  spiritual  mii- 
chinery  which  had  gradually  been  formed  as  experience 
suggested  and  occasion  required;  retreats  in  the  city 
and  large  towns,  spiritual  exercises  for  candidates  for 
ordination,  missions  in  the  rural  districts,  were  carried 
on  incessantly;  and  ever  foremost  in  the  good  work 
was  the  cardinal  archbishop  himself,  w  ho  became  for  the 
time  as  one  of  the  missionai'ies,  and  conformed  in  every 
respect  to  their  ride.  Now  he  might  be  seen  instruct- 
ing the  young  ecclesiastics,  now  preaching-  to  the  towns- 
people, or  addressing-  in  simple  and  touching  language 
the  ignorant  peasantry.  The  result  was  commensurate 
with  the  zeal  and  diligence  of  the  labourers.  The  con- 
fessionals were  not  so  much  crowded  as  besieged,  scan- 


CH.  XX.]  THE  FOREIGN  MISSIONS. 


169 


dais  were  removed,  and  enmitiee  of  lonff  continuance 
abandoned.  At  Cliiavari,  three  parishes  wliich  had  been 
at  war  for  years  were  reconciled;  at  another  place, 
family  feuds  were  healed  in  which  not  less  than  twenty- 
four  miu-ders  had  been  perpetrated.  Indeed,  such  was 
the  fervour  of  the  people,  that  eig-hteen  priests  were 
continually  eng*ag'ed  in  the  confessionals,  and  three 
thousand  general  confessions  were  heard,  in  which  the 
penitents  also  required  and  received  religious  instruc- 
tion. 

The  cardinal  rejoiced  in  the  success  of  the  mission, 
and  prized  too  highly  the  good  which  had  resulted  to 
let  it  pass  away  with  those  who  had  effected  it.  He 
determined  upon  ftiinding"  a  house  of  the  order  at 
Genoa,  and  three  oi  ins  chief  clergy  nobly  undertook 
the  expense  of  the  work.  But  not  content  with  tliis. 
Cardinal  Durazzo  carried  into  the  country-parts  ll-e  dif- 
ferent institutions  which  we  have  seen  Vincent  establish 
in  France,  especially  the  conferences,  spiritual  retreats, 
and  associations  of  charity.  So  that,  even  among*  the 
poorest  peasantry  and  in  the  most  remote  districts, 
Vincent's  spirit  animated  and  presided  over  the  corporal 
works  of  mercy  that  were  there  performed ;  and  where 
contributions  were  of  the  smallest,  and  the  little  annual 
subscri])tions  would  almost  excite  a  smile,  the  blessing* 
of  the  Lord  was  on  the  widow's  mite,  and  the  cruise  of 
oil  failed  not  when  poured  forth  without  g*nidg*ing'  for 
love  of  liini. 

Such  a  mission  was  indeed  after  Vincent's  own  heart ; 
and  thoug'h  his  daily  increasing;  infirmities  forbade  his 
being  present  in  person  with  them,  yet  was  his  heart  in 
the  midst  of  their  toils,  while  his  fervent  letters  show 
how  truly  he  made  those  toils  his  own.  "  0  God" — 
thus  he  writes — "  0  my  Saviour,  be  Thou  the  stay  of 
their  hearts.  Bring  into  full  bloom  the  flowers  of  those 
holy  affections  which  Thou  hast  caused  to  bud  within 
them.  Increase  the  fruits  of  their  labours,  that  the 
children  of  Thy  Church  may  be  sustained  thereby. 
Itain  Thy  blessings  upon  thia  new  house,  as  upon  a 


ill 


m 


1  ,; 


I 


170 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


nursling-  plant.  Strengthen  and  console  these  poor  mis- 
sionaries in  the  weariness  of  their  toils.  And  at  the 
last,  be  Thou,  my  God,  their  recompense,  and  may  their 
prayers  obtain  for  me  Thy  infinite  mercy."  Tliere  were 
sorrows  mingled  with  these  joys  which  Vincent's  tender 
heart  felt  acutely.  A  pestilence  broke  out  at  Genoa, 
which  in  1654  raged  so  violently,  that  it  carried  off 
live  or  six  of  the  chief  missionaries ;  a  loss,  moreover, 
which  was  not  confined  to  one  diocese  or  kingdom,  but 
in  many  places  considerably  reduced  the  numbers  of  the 
young-  order. 

Tliere  is  one  more  mission  upon  which  we  must 
dwell  somewhat  at  length  before  we  pass  to  the  consi- 
deration of  those  vvliich  more  intimately  affect  us.  The 
next  chapter  will  show  what  Vincent  de  Paul  did  for 
Ireland;  we  will  conclude  the  present  by  recounting 
the  first  labours  of  the  order  among  the  heathen. 

It  was  in  1648  that  Innocent  X.,  at  the  request  of 
the  Congregation  for  the  Propagation  of  the  Faith,  sent 
a  message  by  the  nuncio  at  Paris  to  Vincent,  desir- 
ing him  to  clespatch  some  missionaries  to  Madagascar. 
That  enormous  island  had  been  discovered  by  the  Por- 
tuguese in  1506 ;  but  its  terrible  climate  had  soon 
driven  them  away,  and  at  the  time  of  which  we  write 
the  French  had  possession  of  a  fortified  post  which 
they  called  Fort  Dauphin.  A  lofty  chain  of  mountains 
runs  through  the  length  of  the  island  from  north  to 
south,  dividing  it  into  two  unequal  portions.  The  inte- 
rior is  healthy  and  very  beautiful;  but  the  coast  is 
throughout  intersected  with  large  lakes  of  stagnant 
water,  caused  by  the  closing  of  the  mouths  of  the  dif- 
ferent rivers  by  high  bars  of  sand  which  the  ocean 
washes  in  upon  the  shore.  The  inhabitants  of  the  coast 
are  divided  into  two  races,  who  respectively  occupy  the 
east  and  west  sides,  while  the  interior  is  held  by  a  race 
quite  distinct  from  the  other  two.  The  former  is  of 
Afi-ican  origin,  not  negro  but  hottentot ;  while  the  lat- 
ter, the  Hovas,  is  evidently  a  conquering  race  of  Malay 
descent,  far  buperior  in  person  and  in  intelligence  to  the 


CH.  XX.]  THE  FOREIGN  MISSIONS.  171 

dwellers  on  the  seashore.  It  is  not  easy  to  obtain  any- 
very  clear  idea  of  the  religion  of  these  people ;  but  tliey 
have  a  vague  notion  of  a  future  life,  and  seem  to  have 
more  fear  of  on  evil  spirit  than  love  for  a  g-ood  one.  Their 
chief  sacrifices  are  offered  to  the  former,  who  occupies 
the  first  rank  in  their  religious  ceremonies.  They  are  in 
the  habit  of  exposing*  the  children  who  are  born  on  Wed- 
nesdays and  Fridays  (their  unlucky  days)  to  the  wild- 
beasts  ;  but  othenvise  the  Malagasses  are  sociable,  kind, 
lig'ht-hearted,  and  fond  of  music  and  drinking*.  They 
have  a  plurality  of  wives,  commonly  as  many  as  their  cir- 
cumstances enable  them  to  support,  thoug'h  one  alone  is 
dignified  with  the  name.  The  wonderful  fertility  of  the 
alluvial  soil  renders  labour  altogether  unnecessarv ;  for 
rice  dropped  upon  the  ground,  and  pressed  down  with 
the  foot,  will  yield  a  hundredfold.  The  timber  is  most 
luxuriant;  but  the  undrained  marshes  of  the  coast, 
under  the  influence  of  heavy  rains  and  the  extreme  heat 
at  certain  seasons  of  the  year,  exhale  a  malaria  which 
no  European  constitution  can  long  endure. 

To  this  beautiful  but  pestilential  island  Vincent  de 
Paul  sent  two  of  his  missionaries  in  1648.  Their  names 
were  Charles  Nacquart  and  Nicholas  Gondree ;  and  at 
Vincent's  direction  they  followed  the  example  of  the 
gTeat  missionary  of  India,  St.  Francis  Xavier,  and  began 
their  apostolic  labours  as  soon  as  they  went  on  board 
their  vessel,  which  was  at  La  Rochelle.  It  was  on  the 
Feast  of  the  Ascension  that  they  embarked ;  and  Nac- 
quart celebrated  Mass  on  board  the  vessel  and  preached 
on  the  gospel  of  the  day.  His  congregation  consisted  of 
a  hundred  and  twenty-six  })ersons,  among  whom  were 
some  soldiers  and  the  new  governor  of  Fort  Dauphin. 
The  very  first  thing  we  hear  of  as  the  fruit  of  this  ser- 
mon was,  that  oflicers,  soldiers,  and  sailors  alike  pre- 
pared themselves  for  a  general  confession,  and  those 
who  needed  it  received  catechetical  instruction.  After 
they  had  set  sail,  ]Mass  was  said  daily,  and  spiritual 
confeiences  took  place  two  or  three  times  a  week ;  all 
profime  language  ceased  j  in  short,  the  vessel  resembled 


// 


\A\ 


>«lu«»*1 


172 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


a  religious  house.  When  they  had  nearly  crossed  the 
Hne,  the  wind  became  contrary,  and  the  sailors  talked  of 
standing'  in  for  a  harbour ;  but  Nacquart,  whose  opinion 
was  rof(arded  as  that  of  a  sanit,  advised  them  to  pro- 
ceed. He  urged  them  to  have  recourse  to  Him  whom 
*he  winds  and  the  waves  obey  j  and  the  company,  binding* 
tliemselves  by  vow  to  approach  the  sacraments  at  the 
coming*  festival  of  the  Assumption,  and  to  contribute 
towards  a  church  to  be  erected  at  Madagascar  under 
the  invocation  of  "  Mary,  Star  of  the  Sea,"  the  wind 
changed,  and  all  was  well.  They  landed  at  Madagascar 
in  December  1648,  on  which  occasion  Mass  was  cele- 
brated, and  a  Te  JDeum  sung*  in  thanksgiving  at  Foi-t 
Dauphin,  where  for  five  months  the  Holy  Sacrifice  had 
not  been  offered. 

Their  first  care  was  to  begin  the  study  of  the  native 
language;  and  while  thus  engag-ed,  they  employed 
themselves  in  the  spiritual  care  of  the  French  soldiers 
in  garrison  at  Fort  Dauphin.  They  found  more  ob- 
stacles here  than  they  hao.  encountered  on  board  ship ; 
for  most  of  the  men  were  living*  entirely  without  reli- 
gion, and  indulged  themselves  in  plundering  and  ill- 
treating  the  natives.  Father  Nacquart  beg-an  his  in- 
tercourse with  the  Malagasses  under  very  favourable 
circumstances ;  for  he  heard  of  a  dian,  or  chief  of  a 
village,  who  had  spent  several  years  in  his  youth  at 
Goa.  At  once  it  struck  him  that  the  man  might  have 
learnt  something*  of  Christianity  while  in  that  city, 
whicli  was  the  seat  of  a  Portuguese  archbishopric.  His 
conjecture  was  well-founded ;  the  chief  told  him  that 
he  had  been  baptised,  in  token  whereof  he  crossed  him- 
self and  repeated  the  Creed,  as  well  as  the  "  Our  Father" 
and  "  Hail  Mary"  in  Portuguese.  He  readily  gave 
the  missionaries  permission  to  instruct  his  people  in 
Christianity,  and  himself  assisted  in  tlie  work.  Before 
long  other  chiefs,  who  came  to  see  what  was  going  on, 
g*ave  a  like  consent ;  and  the  two  disciples  of  Vincent 
thus  found  a  favourable  opening,  of  which  they  were  not 
slow  to  avail  themselves.    They  redoubled  their  exer- 


CH.  XX.]  THE  FOREIGN  MISSIONS. 


173 


Iter 
,ve 
in 
fore 
Ion, 
tent 
(not 
tei> 


tions  in  acquiring'  the  langaiag-e,  and  speedily  learnt 
enough  to  make  themselves  understood.  Thus  jn-epared, 
they  travelled  ii-om  place  to  place ;  and  made  numerous 
disciples  among  the  Africans,  who  were  far  more  docile 
and  anxious  for  instruction  than  the  superior  race — ^the 
H6vas. 

One  night,  as  Father  Nacquart  was  returning  to 
Fort  Dau])hin,  he  passed  through  a  village  in  which 
one  of  the  principal  personages  besought  his  assistance. 
He  was  sick,  and  hoped  that  the  missionary  would  cm-e 
him  miraculously.  Tiie  Father  told  him  that  God 
often  sent  bodily  maladies  for  the  good  of  the  soul,  and 
that  "perhaps  He  would  cure  him  if  he  would  cast  aside 
his  superstitions  and  embrace  the  true  religion.  "  And 
what  is  this  true  religion?"  asked  the  sick  man.  Nac- 
quart gladly  seized  the  opportunity  of  giving  instruc- 
tion; but  with  a  prudent  economy  of  his  time  and  labour, 
he  required  that  the  inhabitants  of  the  village  should  be 
called  in,  that  they  might  hear  what  explanation  he 
had  to  give.  When  all  were  assembled,  he  taught  them 
plainly  and  with  precision  the  principal  articles  of  the 
Christian  faith.  The  sick  man  listened  with  attention, 
felt  consolation  in  the  sublime  truths,  and  declared  that 
he  believed  all  that  the  missionary  had  said.  He  de- 
sired to  be  baptised  at  once ;  but  his  teacher  told  him 
that  a  longer  trial  of  his  faith  was  needed  before  he 
could  receive  so  great  a  blessing.  Then,  turning  to 
those  who  were  present,  the  good  Father  asked  them 
w  hat  they  thought  of  the  Gospel ;  upon  which  they  all 
expressed  their  pleasure  at  what  they  had  heard.  One 
of  them,  in  his  simple  way,  said  that  it  was  worth  more 
than  silver  or  gold ;  for  these  could  be  taken  away  by 
force,  but  the  knowledge  of  God,  when  written  on  the 
heart,  would  always  remain,  and  ^^  one  would  always  be 
sure  to  find  it  there  on  waking  from  sleep."  The  wife 
of  the  sick  man  had  listened  in  silence  to  all  that  had 
passed ;  but  now  she  spoke  in  a  manner  that  both  as- 
tonished and  delighted  the  missionary.  She  assured 
him  that  for  a  long  time  past  she  had  had  recourse  to 


Pi 

m  I' 


ky. 


ll 


^'mm 


174 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


■y 


God ;  that  when  she  sowed  her  rice  or  other  grain,  it 
wua  her  custom  to  look  up  to  the  heavens  and  say,  "  It 
is  Thou,  0  God,  who  canst  cause  the  seed  to  grow 
which  I  plant,  and  who  hast  hitherto  given  me  what  I 
have  reaped.  If  Thou  hast  need  of  it,  I  will  give  it 
Thee ;  and  I  wish  to  give  a  part  of  it  to  those  who 
have  none." 

The  missionary  looked  forward  to  receive  before 
long  the  fruit  of  this  unlooked-for  faith,  and  to  gather 
into  the  Church  the  harvest  which  had  tlu'iven  so  well. 
But  an  uflforeseen  event  kept  him  away.  His  com- 
panion, Gondree,  was  seized  with  a  violent  fever,  brought 
on  by  over-exertion,  and  the  neglect  of  some  officers 
with  whom  he  was  obliged  to  travel;  and  Nacquart 
devoted  to  his  sick  friend  every  moment  he  could  snatch 
from  his  flock  and  catechumens.  In  fourteen  days 
Gondree  died,  and  with  his  parting  breath  sent  his 
humble  thanks  to  Vincent  de  Paul  for  the  mission 
which  he  had  given  him.  Nacquart  was  now  alone : 
he  felt  that  in  time  the  terrible  climate  would  lay  him 
low,  as  it  had  done  his  dear  companion ;  but  he  prayed 
to  God  to  support  him  until  others  could  come  to  carry 
on  the  work,  and  with  a  bold  heart  and  untiring*  zeal 
he  strove  to  fulfil  the  heavy  duties  which  devolved 
upon  him.  To  help  the  future  missionaries,  he  pre- 
pared a  translation  of  the  Christian  doctrine  into  the 
Malagassy  language,  which  he  committed  to  memory, 
and  thereby  acquired  greater  facility  in  speaking.  But 
his  journeys  into  the  interior  were  now  brought  to  an 
end.  He  could  not  leave  the  fort  for  more  than  six 
dtiys  at  a  time ;  for  he  was  bound  to  say  Mass  there 
on  Sundays  and  holidays.  His  ingenuity,  however, 
contrived  a  plan  by  which  he  might  still  convey  in- 
struction to  those  whom  he  could  not  teach  in  person. 
He  cliose  out  the  most  devout  of  the  French  garrison, 
and  ])repared  them  as  catechists;  and  then  took  advan- 
tnge  of  every  expedition  into  the  country  to  instruct 
the  natives  as  well  by  word  as  by  example.  The  parts 
adjacent  to  Fort  Dauphin  he  visited  continually^  in- 


CH.  XX.]  THE  FOREIGN  MISSIONS. 


175 


stnicting"  by  day  those  whom  he  found  in  the  villoffes, 
and  at  night  those  who  were  eng-ag'ed  during*  the  day. 
In  time  his  influence  extended  over  the  ruling*  class,  who 
failed  not  to  contrast  his  zeal  and  disinterestedness  with 
the  very  different  motives  which  influenced  their  own 
idolatrous  priests.  But  anxious  as  the  people  showed 
themselves  to  he  for  baptism,  he  was  very  cautious  in 
conferring"  it,  reservino;  it  for  the  dying",  or  for  those 
who  had  g;iven  proof  ot  perseverance ;  so  that  in  eig-hteen 
months  he  did  not  baptise  more  than  sixty. 

It  was  in  the  year  1G50  that  Vincent  de  Paul  re- 
ceived the  letter  which  announced  the  death  of  Gondr^e, 
and  asked  for  some  one  to  supply  his  place.  Vincent 
mourned  over  the  loss  of  so  zealous  a  priest,  and  equally 
over  the  dangerous  position  of  him  who  had  alone  to 
bear  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day.  He  determined 
upon  sending  more  of  the  Fathers ;  but  the  war  of  the 
Fronde,  which  was  now  at  its  height,  prevented  for 
a  time  the  needful  succour.  It  was  not  until  1654 
that  the  two  priests  whom  Vincent  had  selected  could 
set  forth  on  their  mission ;  and  the  next  year  he  sent 
three  more  after  them.  It  was  a  sad  tale  which  one 
of  the  former  had  to  send  to  our  Saint,  for  it  told  how 
fiercely  death  had  ra"*ed  among  them.  When  he  and 
his  companion  arrived  at  Madagascar,  they  found  Nac- 
quart  dead.  His  fellow-labourer  lived  but  six  months ; 
and  of  the  three  last  sent,  one  died  on  the  voyage,  a 
second  soon  after  landing,  and  the  third  survived  but  a 
few  weeks  longer.  Thus  was  the  mission  in  the  same 
state  as  when  Nacquart  wrote  for  help,  and  six  mis- 
sionaries had  perished.  But  Bourdaise,  the  sole  sur- 
vivor, laboured  with  the  utmost  energy  j  and  while  he 
nearly  overwhelmed  the  aged  Vincent,  who  was  now 
upwards  of  eighty,  with  the  tale  of  woe,  he  comforted 
his  heart  with  tidings  of  the  great  success  which  crowned 
the  work  which  had  yielded  so  many  martyrs. 

The  loss  of  the  missionaries,  the  reader  will  see,  was 
contemporaneous  with  that  which  reduced  so  greatly 
the  number  at  Genoa  j  while  in  Scotland  more  of  the 


M 


\i 


III 


■  iii-'ii-l 


170 


9T.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


order  were  sufFerinff  severely.  Thus  soitow  seemed  to 
accumulate  upon  Vincent;  and  could  he  have  known 
that,  while  he  was  reading'  the  sad  letter  of  Boiu'daise, 
that  heroic  priest  was  himself  dying-  of  fatigue  at  the 
ag-o  of  twenty-seven,  another  pang^  would  have  rent  his 
heart. 

Many  of  Vincent's  friends  advised  him  to  abandon 
the  mission  in  Madagascar ;  but  he  felt  it  his  duty  to 
I>ersevere.  Difficulties  continually  interfered  to  pre- 
vent fresh  missionaries  from  reaching*  the  island.  He 
sent  two  to  join  a  vessel  at  Nantes  :  the  vessel  was  lost 
before  they  reached  it,  and  they  returned  to  Paris.  In 
1658  he  sent  four  more  :  the  Spaniards  captured  the 
vessel,  and  the  priests  were  sent  home.  Ag-ain,  in  1659, 
he  sent  ftve  of  his  Society  to  Nantes :  the  vessel  had 
g"one  to  La  Rochelle ;  three  of  the  number  set  out  for 
that  place  by  land,  and  two  others  went  by  water.  The 
former  sent  word  to  Vincent  that  the  latter  had  cer- 
tainly perished  with  the  vessel.  It  turned  out,  how- 
ever, that  this  report  was  unfounded,  and  once  more 
the  party  assembled  at  La  Rochelle  and  set  sail.  But 
at  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  the  vessel  went  down ;  and 
though  the  lives  of  all  were  saved,  the  Fathers  were 
forced  to  retmii.  When  they  reached  Paris,  Vincent 
was  dead. 

In  1662,  four  priests  at  last  succeeded  in  reaching 
Madagascar;  and  the  mission  continued  with  great 
success  until  Louis  XIV.  gave  up  the  island  in  1674, 
and  forbade  all  French  vessels  to  touch  thereat.  Four 
missionaries  were  at  Madagascar  at  that  time:  the 
natives  killed  one  of  them,  and  burned  a  second  in  his 
house ;  the  other  two  returned  to  France.  One  of 
these,  Michael  Monmasson,  replaced  Le  Vacher  in  Bar- 
bary,  and  after  saving  many  souls  gained  the  crown  of 
martyrdom. 


177 


:  ^'-,>      ■    iv'i 


'SA 


CHAPTER  XXL 

MI8SIOK8    Ilf  IRELAND. 


In  May  1645  Rinuccini,  Archbishop  of  Fermo,  passed 
through  Paris  on  his  way  to  Irelana,  to  which  country 
Innocent  X.  had  sent  him  as  nuncio.  At  that  time 
Vincent  was  preparing",  by  the  direction  of  the  Holy 
Father,  to  send  missions  into  Persia  and  the  kingdom 
of  Fez ;  but  circumstances  prevented  the  execution  of 
these  designs.  It  is  very  probable  that  the  nuncio  was 
the  bearer  of  a  message  which  directed  the  attention  of 
our  Saint  to  the  deplorable  condition  of  the  land  for 
which  he  was  bound ;  for  soon  afterwards  we  find  Vin- 
cent preparing"  no  less  than  nine  of  his  community  for  a 
mission  to  Ireland. 

We  must  call  to  mind  a  few  historical  facts  which 
will  suffice  to  sliow  the  misery  under  which  Ireland  was 
labouring'  at  that  period. 

During  the  unhappy  disputes  between  Charles  I. 
and  his  Parliament,  the  Irish  Catholics  remained  faith- 
ful to  the  king.  There  was  almost  an  infatuation  in 
their  attachment  to  that  irresolute  and  faithless  mon- 
arch ;  the  many  wrongs  thev  suffered,  they  laid  to  the 
charge  of  his  ministers;  whatever  gleam  of  sunshine 
penetrated  the  darkness  that  overhung  the  land,  they 
attributed  to  the  king.  Even  Strafford's  government 
seemed  mild,  when  compared  with  that  of  his  succes- 
sors ;  and  the  fall  of  that  minister  brought  no  consola- 
tion to  those  who  saw  in  it  but  the  triumph  of  their 
deadliest  enemies. 

Things  had  now  arrived  at  such  a  state  that  they 
could  no  longer  be  endured.  The  rising  of  the  Ulster 
chiefs  in  1641  was  a  struggle  for  life;  for  the  Puritans 
had  vowed  the  extirpation  of  the  Catholics ;  and  before 
long  the  Catholics  of  the  Pale  were  forced  to  join  their 

w 


I'l" 


178 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


more  ardent  bretliren  of  the  north.  The  country  rose 
at  the  call,  and  tlie  Ghurcli  gave  its  sanction  to  what 
was  fblt  to  be  a  war  ot"  religion.  A  provincial  synod 
of  Ulster,  lield  at  Kells  in  March  1G42,  under  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Armagh,  declared  the  struggle  to  be  a  just 
and  pious  one;  while  a  national  synod  at  Kilkenny,  in 
May,  proclaimed  the  war  to  be  lawful,  "  undertaken  for 
the  defence  of  the  Catholic  religion,  and  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  sovereign  lord  King  Charles  ana  his  just 
rights  and  prerogatives."  For  a  time  success  crowned 
the  exertions  of  the  confederates;  but  soon  discord 
sprang  up  in  the  Irish  camp.  The  "  new  Irish  party," 
as  the  nuncio  calls  it  in  his  report,  the  men  of  the  Pale, 
began  to  tire  of  the  league,  and  felt  that  they  had  lit- 
tle in  common  with  the  "  old  Irish."  In  spite  of  the 
earnest  remonstrances  of  the  wiser  men,  a  truce  was 
concluded  in  September  1G43.  It  was  a  ruinous  mea- 
sure for  the  nation.  A  few  weeks  of  active  and  resolute 
measures  would  liave  sufficed  to  annihilate  the  parlia- 
mentary {)arty  in  Ireland  ;  and  who  know^s  but  that  the 
forces,  thus  elated  by  victory,  and  attached  so  warmly 
to  their  king,  might,  by  joining  his  friends  in  Enghina, 
have  brought  the  rebellion  in  that  country  to  a  very 
different  issue  from  that  which  stained  the  nation  with 
tlie  blood  of  Charles  I.  ?  Tliis  unwise  and  hasty  truce, 
however,  ruined  the  cause. 

In  1645  commissioners  were  appointed  to  conclude 
a  peace,  and  at  this  time  Uinuccini  passed  throu""h  Paris 
on  his  way  as  nuncio  to  Ireland.  He  arrived  in  Oc- 
tober. Dissensions  continued  to  jn-evail.  The  nuncio 
could  not  sanction  a  peace  which  gave  no  pled<^e  for 
the  free  exercise  of  religion ;  but  he  was  overruled,  and 
the  peace  was  formally  ratified  in  July  1040.  Rinuc- 
cini  was  not  tlie  man  to  sit  down  quietly  under  such 
circiunstances.  In  AuL>-ust  he  w-ent  to  Kilkenny  with 
the  great  leader  O'Neil,  took  the  chiefs  of  the  tem- 
porising party  prisoners,  excommunicated  the  authors 
and  abettors  of  the  peace,  appointed  a  new  council  ol 
eight  laymen  and  four  ecclesiastics,  and  was  himseli 


CH.  XXI.]  MI88ION8  IN  IRELAND. 


170 


in 


placed  at  their  liend  as  president.  The  people  rallied 
round  him ;  the  king-  promised,  if  he  could  escape  from 
the  Scots,  to  throw  himself  into  their  hands ;  and  tiie 
combined  forces  of  Ulster  and  Leinster  marched  with 
their  ecclesiastical  leader  after  tlie  lord-lieutenant  Ur- 
mond  to  Dublin.  However,  the  besieg-ers  were  obliged 
to  retire  witliout  accomplisliing*  their  purpose;  tiie  curse 
of  internal  division,  as  usual,  marred  their  councils;  and 
Ormond,  in  opposition  to  the  express  command  of  tlie 
king",  delivered  Dublin  into  the  hands  of  the  Parlia- 
mentarians, and  with  the. reward  of  his  treachery  with- 
drew to  England,  and  subsequently  to  France. 

Once  more  the  confederates  met  with  a  reverse; 
several  battles  lost  only  fomented  division.  Another 
truce  was  proposed  in  May  1G47,  to  which  the  niuicio 
again  objected ;  it  was  carried,  and  once  more  he  ful- 
minated an  excommunication.  And  now  the  contro- 
versy waxed  still  warmer,  and  divided  the  clergy,  re- 
gular and  secular,  into  violent  parties.  The  Cajiuchins 
and  Dominicans  declared  for  the  censures ;  the  Jesuits, 
Carmelites,  and  Franciscans  were  for  the  truce;  while 
eig-ht  of  the  bishops  protested  against  the  excommunica- 
tion. Nor  did  the  matter  end  here ;  O'Neil  was  ])ro- 
claimed  a  rebel ;  and  he  replied  by  declaring  war  agninst 
the  council.  Before  long-  Ormond  returned  to  Ireland 
as  lord- lieutenant ;  and  the  party  which  had  before  op- 
posed him  was  now  too  much  weakened  by  these  divi- 
sions to  stand  in  his  way. 

In  January  1G49  a  new  pacification  was  signed,  and 
in  a  few  days  the  murder  of  the  king'  was  perpetrated. 
The  nuncio  left  the  country ;  and  in  the  same  3"ear  Crom- 
well aj)peared  on  the  shores  of  Ireland.  In  the  month 
of  Aug'ust  he  landed  at  Dublin  with  eight  thoussmd 
foot,  four  thousand  horse,  and  twenty  thousand  pounds 
in  money ;  for  the  rog'icides  had  sent  him  as  lord-licu- 
tennnt,  while  Ormond  retained  that  ollice  in  the  name 
of  Charles  II. 

It  is  not  our  purpose  to  dwell  upon  the  awful  scenes 
of  rapine  and  bloodshed  which  marked  the  course  of 


.m 


'mm 


m 


Wi 


hi 


i«0 


8T.  TINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


Cromweirs  army.  Ono  incident  nlono  affects  our  nar- 
nitivfi,  and  tliat  bring-s -iii!*  to  Limerick.  To  tliat  city 
laid  nio-t  of*  Vincent's  missionnries  betnken  tllem^elve8, 
wlien,  alter  a  dangerous  passage  from  Saint-Nazaini,  at 
the  mouth  of  tlic  Loire,  they  reached  Irehmd.  Tlie 
lioly  company  consisted  in  all  of  eight  fathers,  of 
wliom  five  were  of  English  or  Irish  birth ;  some  went 
into  the  diocese  of  Cashel,  but  the  rest,  as  we  have 
said,  repaired  to  Limerick.  It  was  at  the  latter  end  of 
the  year  1040  that  they  entered  upon  their  missionary 
labours;  and  the  result  was  such  as  to  surprise  the 
Fathers,  though  not  greater  than  usually  attends  simi 
Inr  efforts  among"  this  devout  people.  The  nuncio 
found  time,  amid  the  distractions  of  the  civil  war,  to 
give  his  sanction  to  their  work,  and  to  recommend  it  as 
a  model  alike  for  bishops  and  priests ;  and  these  gladly 
availed  themselves  of  its  blessed  influences.  They  were 
the  first  to  present  themselves  to  make  a  general  con- 
fession ;  and  by  their  example  led  on  their  flocks  to  a 
profitable  use  of  the  boon  which  Vincent  had  sent  them. 
The  disorders  of  tho  times  had  driven  the  country- 
people  into  thetowjis;  and  such  were  the  crowds  which 
ueset  the  confeprionali>,  that  persons  had  to  wait  whole 
weeks  before  they  could  obtain  admission.  Those  were, 
indeed,  no  ordinary  times;  the  spirit  of  persecution 
raged  with  a  violence  which  had  scarcely  been  known 
beibre,  even  in  that  land  of  persecutions.  And  with 
tliat  evil  spirit  rose  the  devotion  of  the  people.  The 
fiiry  of  the  regicides  turned  with  redoubled  force  upon 
the  Catholics,  who  had  dared  to  proclaim  the  son  of 
their  victim  as  king ;  and  the  missionarin  •  foimd  their  oc- 
cupation to  be  like  tlint  of  those  who,  in  Mn  (l;«vs  ofthr 
early  persecutions,  prepared  Christir  i=;  f'- v  j^^.  icyrdom. 
"  As  with  the  people,  so  with  the  priest ;"  not  one  of 
those  among  whom  the  missionaries  laboured  deserted 
his  flock ;  violence  or  death  alone  could  separate  them. 
But  while  their  labours  extended  throughout  the 
r'.'oct.3P,  their  chief  exertions  were  du'ected  to  the  city 
of  Lirierick  itself,  where  was  the  stout-hearted  bishop, 


4a 


oil.  XXI.J 


MISSIoKg  Iff  IRELAND. 


181 


the 


op, 


Edmond  O'Dwver.  And  well  wfts  it  for  LimpricV  that 
it  lukd  its  bislioi  vitliin  its  walls;  for  st«)ut  liairts  wpre 
esjK'diilly  needed  fit  that  day,  not  oniy  to  In^arup  ag-airi'^t 
the  terriulo  sutlerinj^-s  wi.ich  the  faithful  had  ( ontinually 
to  encounter,  but  to  keep  in  the  rugfi'cd  ])ath  of  duty 
tiiose  whose  coumg;e  nii^ht  bo  t((iupt(*d  to  wav^r  tnnid 
Kuch  severe  trials.  The  g'ood  bishop  was  never  luis.oiiig', 
whether  ut  the  council-board  or  the  altnr ;  reuily  alike  to 
give  his  voice  for  the  defence  of  the  city  ngain.xl  the  Inde- 
pendents and  to  minister  at  the  (h'nth-bed  of  the  phigue- 
stricken  famishing"  soUlier.  Ireton,  Croniwell's  stern 
son-in-law,  was  at  the  gates,  and  faint  hearts  tr(  lubled 
and  talked  of  submission ;  nay,  when  the  bi^hop  threat- 
ened excommunication  against  the  traitors*,  humnn  weak- 
ness made  some  despise  the  spiritual  jierialt  ;  but  the 
negotiation  failed,  and  the  siege  proceeded.  Pestilence 
raged  within  the  walls,  ond  that  so  fatally,  thi.t  not  less 
than  eight  thousand  of  the  inhabitants  were  sw  i)t  away 
by  this  cruel  malody.  Many  tried  to  escape  rom  the 
city;  but  the  brutal  general  threatened  to  shcot  any 
who  should  attempt  to  come  out.  Ho  actuall}  seized 
three  or  four,  whom  he  ordered  for  execution ;  and  others 
he  caused  to  be  whipped  back  into  the  town.  ( »ne  of 
the  poor  creatures  thus  condemned  to  be  hanged  \  as  a 
young-  g-irl,  the  daughter  of  an  old  man  who  was  one 
of  the  number  driven  back.  The  father  ])rayed  to  be 
allowed  to  die  in  the  place  of  his  cliild  j  but  Lis  prayer 
was  rejected. 

Thus  the  siege  continued  till  the  end  of  October 
1051,  when  a  traitor.  Colonel  Gennell,  who  had  bel  ae 
betrayed  the  pass  at  Killaloe,  and  then  taken  shelter  iu 
Limerick,  conspired  with  others,  and  treacherously  ad- 
mitted the  enemy  at  one  of  the  gates.  The  city  beii.g 
now  invested  on  both  sides  by  a  numerous  army,  whith 
had  just  received  a  reinforcement  of  400U  men,  the 
brave  Hugh  O'Neil  and  his  garriijon  were  constiained 
to  accept  articles  of  surrender.  Ireton  excluded  by 
name  from  the  benefit  of  pardon  those  who  had  been 
foremost  in  the  defence ;  among  these  were  O'Neil,  tiie 


')'■"■  r; 


lit  <'i^ 

1|; 


183 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


Bishop  of  Limerick,  and  the  Bishop  of  Emly.  The 
first  had  a  narrow  escape.  Ireton  tried  him  hy  a  court- 
martial,  which  condemned  liim  to  death ;  some  of  the 
officers  remonstrated,  and  Ireton  at  length  g'ave  him  a 
second  trial,  when  lie  was  saved  by  a  sing'le  vote.  The 
Bishop  of  Limerick  escaped  among*  the  troops  in  the 
dress  of  a  common  soldier,  and  died  at  Brussels.  For 
the  Bishop  of  Emly  a  different  fate  was  reserved. 

Terence  Albert  O'Brien  was  a  friar  of  the  Domini- 
can convent  in  Limerick,  and  was  made  Bishop  of  Emly 
in  164:4:.  His  elorpience  was  so  powerful  in  sustaining 
the  courag-e  of  the  besieged,  that  Ireton  actually  made 
him  an  offer  of  40,000/.  and  a  passport,  if  he  would 
only  quit  the  city.  He  spurned  tlie  bribe,  and  was  in 
consequence  exempted  from  the  pardon.  He  was  tried, 
and  condemned  to  be  hang-ed  and  beheaded.  In  his 
last  moments  he  addressed  Ireton,  upbraided  him  for 
his  injustice,  and  summoned  him  to  appear  in  a  few 
days  before  tlie  tribunal  of  God.  The  summons  was 
obeyed  !  In  eight  days  the  inexorable  general  was 
smitten  with  the  plague,  and  died  raving  wildly  of  him 
whose  words  he  had  so  lately  despised. 

It  was  amid  such  scenes  as  these  that  the  Fathers 
of  the  Mission  toiled  incessantly ;  and  with  whnt  success 
we  have  already  seen.  It  is,  however,  but  just  tliat 
the  brave  old  bishop  who  bore  so  large  a  portion  of  the 
labour  should  tell  his  own  tale,  which  he  does  in  the 
following  letter  to  Vincent : 

"  I  have  often  in  my  letters  to  your  reverence  given 
you  an  account  of  your  missionaries  in  this  kingdom : 
to  speak  the  truth,  never,  in  the  memory  of  man,  was 
so  great  progress  heard  of  in  the  Catholic  religion  as 
we  liave  witnessed  during  the  last  few  years,  owing  to 
their  piety  and  assiduity.  In  the  beginning  of  the  pre- 
sent year  we  opened  the  mission  in  this  city  (where 
there  are  not  less  than  20,000  communicants),  with  such 
good  success  among  the  peoj)le  generally,  that  I  doubt 
not  but  that,  by  God's  grace,  the  greater  portion  of 
them  have  been  delivered  from  the  grasp  of  Satan  by 


CH.  XXI.] 


MISSIONS  IN  IRELAND. 


183 


The 


the  remedy  which  lias  been  broiig'ht  to  bear  upon  in- 
vahd  confessions,  drunkennesses,  swearings,  adulteries, 
and  other  disorders  whieli  liave  been  quite  abolislied; 
so  mucli  so,  that  the  whole  city  has  changed  its  aspect, 
being-  driven  to  resort  to  penance  by  the  pestilence, 
famine,  war,  and  other  dangers  which  beset  us  on  all 
sides,  and  which  we  I'eceive  as  manifest  signs  of  the 
anger  of  God.     Nevertheless  His  goodness  has  been 
pleased  to  grant  us  this  favour,  unwortliy  servants  as 
we  are,  to  be  engaged  in  this  work,  which,  in  truth, 
was  so  difficult  in  its  commencement,  that  some  even 
thoug'ht  that  we  could  never  complete  it ;  but  God  has 
made  use  of  the  weak  thing-s  of  the  world  to  confound 
the  strong".     The  chief  people  in  the  town  are  so  as- 
siduous in  their  attendance  at  sermons,  catechism,  and 
all  the  other  exercises  of  the  mission,  that  the  cathedral 
can  hardly  hold  them.     We  cannot  better  appease  the 
anger  of  God  than  by  extirpating  sin,  which  is  the 
foundation  and  cause  of  every  evil.     And,  indeed,  it  is 
our  own  fault  if  God  does  not  stretch  out  a  helping*  hand 
to  us.    To  Ilim  it  belongs  to  have  mercy  and  to  pardon. 
My  father,  I  confess  that  I  owe  the  salvation  of  my  soul 
to  your  children.     Write  them  some  consoling  words. 
I  know  not  under  heaven  a  mission  more  useful  than 
this  of  Ireland ;  for  were  there  a  hundred  missionaries, 
the  work  would  always  exceed  the  labourers.     Our  sins 
are  very  grievous ;  and  who  knows  but  that  God  may 
take  from  us  His  kingdom,  and  give  the  bread  of  angels 
to  dogs,  to  our  shame  and  confusion  ?" 

Of  the  three  missionaries  who  were  in  Limerick 
during"  the  siege,  one  died  in  the  discharge  of  his  sacred 
duties,  and  the  other  two,  Mr.  O'Brien  and  Mr.  Barry, 
escaped  in  disg-uise  after  the  city  had  been  taken.  In 
1C52  they  returned  to  France,  after  having  labom-ed 
zealously  in  this  country  for  six  years.  The  whole 
expense  of  this  prolonged  mission  was  sustained  by  the 
funds  of  St.  Lazarus  ;  the  only  assistance  which  Vincent 
received  being"  a  present  from  the  Duchess  d'Aiguillon 
towards  the  expenses  of  the  voyag-e,  and  for  the  pur- 


iii  m~ 

f  i  V 

ill'; 


:^'tl! 


M 

■  'i '' 

■  I 


184 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


chase  of  some  necessary  altar- furniture.  It  is  on  record, 
that  u})wards  of  eig'lrty  thousand  general  confessions 
were  heard ;  and,  indeed,  so  wonderful  were  the  results 
which  followed,  that  it  was  proposed  to  Vincent  to  pre- 
serve some  detailed  narrative  of  the  mission.  His  reply 
was  striking* : 

''  It  is  onoug-h  that  God  knows  what  has  been  done ; 
the  humility  of  oiu'  Lord  requires  of  our  little  Con- 
gTeg-ation  of  the  Mission  that  it  should  lie  concealed 
v/ith  Jesus  Christ  in  honour  of  His  hidden  life.  The 
blood  of  the  martyrs  of  Ireland  will  not  be  forgotten 
by  Him,  and  sooner  or  later  it  will  be  fruitful  in  the 
production  of  new  Catholics." 

Surely  it  was  in  the  spirit  of  projjhecy  that  these 
words  were  uttered ;  and  Ireland's  subsequent  history 
has  borne  noble  testimony  to  their  fulfilment. 

But  while  the  Fathers  of  the  Mission  were  thus 
toiling"  in  Ireland,  Vincent  was  busy  at  home,  assisting* 
the  people  of  the  same  land  who  had  fled  to  France 
from  the  persecution  which  was  raging*  in  their  native 
country.  Cromwell  was  carrying*  his  threat  of  ex- 
termination into  execution,  and  numbers  entered  the 
French  army  to  gain  a  subsistence.  Many  of  these 
perished  in  the  wars  in  Guyenne,  and  others  in  Picardy. 
The  survivors,  and  the  widows  and  orphans  of  the  slain, 
were  left  in  the  extremity  of  distress.  They  had  Troy  es 
assigned  for  their  winter-quarters ;  and  a  mournful  siglit 
it  was  to  watch  the  poor  sufferers  as  they  entered  the  ^ 
city,  barefoot  amid  the  snows  of  winter,  and  sinking 
under  a  nine  days'  fast ;  and  people  shuddered,  as  well 
they  might,  to  see  them  devour  with  ravenous  appetite 
what  the  dogs  had  left  in  the  streets.  As  soon  as  the 
sad  tale  reached  tlie  ears  of  Vincent,  he  sent  an  Irish 
Father  from  his  house  with  six  hundred  livres ;  and 
quickly  there  followed  more  money,  as  well  as  food  and 
clothing.  Thus  the  relief  began;  and  the  good  ladies 
of  Troyes  soon  followed  the  example  whicli  Vincent 
and  his  fiiends  at  Paris  had  set.  The  Irish  priests  had 
work  enoug*h  to  do  in  the  spiritual  caxe  of  those  who 


CH.  XXI.J  MISSIONS  IN  IRELAND.  185 

could  speak  no  lang'uag-e  but  their  own ;  but  the  spirit 
of  liis  order  enabled  him  to  prepare  them  for  their  Easter 
communion. 

It  is  marvellous  to  think  what  our  Saint  was  thus 
enabled  to  accomplish  in  the  midst  of  the  distress  under 
which  France  was  suffering-  at  this  time.  The  neig-h- 
boiu'liood  of  Paris  was  uncultivated,  and  almost  without 
inhabitant ;  the  city  itself  was  swarming  with  starving 
multitudes  ;  and  yet  these  poor  exiles  of  Erin  were 
tended  with  all  a  father's  care  I 


'1 

■5" 

1     il 

1 1 

Hi' 

! 

.     1 

i  m 

'i  1 

m 


Mh 


M' 


if  ?*'■ 


188 


CIIAl'TER  XXIL 

TINCKNT'8  tour  of  visitation  and  SUCCOUn  OF  PICARDY. 

NiiiTiiER  our  space  nor  our  subject  allows  us  to  enter 
into  the  details  of  the  war  of  the  Fronde,  tliat  strangle 
and  disastrous  event,  which  broug'ht  such  suffering"  upon 
Paris  and  its  neig'hbourhood,  and  threw  for  a  time  the 
whole  nation  into  anarchy  and  confusion.  But  we  may 
take  a  glance  at  the  part  whicli  Vincent  de  Paul  played 
in  that  extraordinary  drama. 

The  violence  of  the  parliament,  seconded  by  the 
tumults  of  the  Parisians,  drove  the  queen  and  her  coun- 
cil from  Paris  to  St.  Germain.  She  left  the  caj)ital 
secretly  on  the  morning'  of  the  Gth  of  January  1G49. 
Vincent  saw  the  danger  which  threatened  the  nation  in 
the  impending*  civil  war ;  and  w^hile  he  disapproved  of 
the  violence  of  the  princes  and  of  the  parliament,  he 
regretted  exceedingly  the  severity  of  the  queen,  who 
rejected  all  offers  of  accommodation,  and  issued  com- 
mands to  her  g-eneral,  the  Prince  de  Conde,  to  blockade 
the  city  and  reduce  it  to  submission.  In  the  excite- 
ment of  such  times  Vincent  well  knew  that  he  could 
take  no  step  which  would  not  at  once  draw  down  u})on 
him  the  enmity  of  one  of  the  two  political  parties  into 
which  the  country  was  divided ;  but  he  felt  tliat  he  was 
bound  at  any  hnzard  to  endeavour  to  juit  an  end  to  such 
an  unhappy  state  of  affairs.  His  resolution  was  taken  j 
he  Avould  see  the  queen  and  Cardinal  Mazarin,  and  try  to 
brinn-  about  a  reconciliation.  Accordino-lv,  on  the  13tli 
of  January,  just  a  week  after  the  queen's  de})avturp,  tlie 
venerable  old  man  mounted  his  i)ony,  and  leaving*  Paris 
long-  before  daybreak,  set  out  with  a  single  com])anion 
on  liis  arduous  journey  to  St.  Germain-en-Laye. 

Dangerous  times  were  those  for  travellers ;  for  Paris 
was  under  arms,  troops  were  quartered  in  the  streets, 


CH.  XXII.]      Vincent's  tour  in  picardy.  187 

and  patrols  paced  tlie  faubourg-s.  Suspicion  reigned  ill 
every  breast,  and  no  man  knew  whom  he  could  trust ; 
the  sword  was  in  each  man's  hand,  and  few  cared  to 
inquire  how  and  when  it  was  used.  Vincent  and  his 
fellow-traveller  had  to  make  many  a  turn  before  they 
could  leave  the  city ;  but,  thanks  to  the  darkness,  they 
succeeded  in  reaching-  Clichy  before  broad  daylig-ht. 
Here  an  amusing-  incident  occurred,  which  nevertheless 
serves  to  show  the  dang-erous  spirit  which  was  abroad. 
The  people  of  Clichy  had  been  plundered  on  the  pre- 
ceding- day  by  a  party  of  German  mercenaries,  and 
were  under  arms  expecting-  a  second  attack.  In  the 
early  morning*  they  hear  the  sound  of  approaching* 
liorsemen,  and  rush  forth  to  meet  their  assailants ;  when, 
to  their  astonishment,  they  encounter  their  old  pastor 
and  his  sing-le  attendant !  More  than  six-and-thirty 
years  had  passed  since  Vincent  had  ministered  among- 
them  J  but  the  love  his  zealous  services  had  kindled 
g-lowed  as  warmly  as  ever,  and  the  joyful  tiding-s  fly 
from  mouth  to  mouth  that  Vincent  de  Paul  has  come 
again  among*  his  children.  It  needed  not  the  contrast 
W'hich  the  apprehended  attack  of  foreig-n  foes  afforded 
to  secure  him  a  welcome ;  but  the  surprise  g'ave  a  still 
g-reator  zest  to  their  joy,  and  they  overwhelm  him  with 
proffers  of  service  in  every  way,  and  carefully  g-uide 
him  into  paths  where  there  would  be  less  danger  of  his 
falling-  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  After  crossing-  a 
dang-erous  bridg-e  over  the  Seine  ;tt  Neuilly,  he  reached 
St.  Germain  about  ten  o'clock,  and  was  immediately 
admitted  to  an  audience  with  the  queen. 

His  remonstrance,  though  couched  in  respectful  lan- 
guage, was  energetic  and  firm.  He  pointed  out  how 
urijuvt  it  would  be  to  cause  the  death  of  such  numbers 
by  starvation  to  punish  the  fault  of  a  few,  and  he  painted 
in  most  striking  colours  tlie  misery  and  demoralisation 
which  must  be  the  result  of  a  civil  war.  He  j)lainly 
told  the  regent  that  the  presence  of  Mazarin  caused 
these  disturbances,  and  that  peace  could  not  be  restored 
without  the  departure  of  that  uiiaister  from  court,  at 


W'i 


!!N 


n 


?fff 


4 


.liiiJsjii, 

ii';      'i^ 


188 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


least  for  a  time.  From  the  queen  he  went  straight  to 
the  cardinal,  and  repeated  the  same  advice.  With  g-reat 
earnestness  he  beg-ged  tlie  wily  minister  to  "  yield  to  tlie 
storm,  and  rather  to  throw  himself  into  the  waves  than 
wreck  the  vessel  of  the  state."  Mazarin  was  little  ac- 
customed to  such  lang-uao'e ;  but  he  was  touched,  or  at 
least  affected  to  be  so,  by  Vincent's  earnestness,  and 

?uietly  replied,  "  Very  well,  my  dear  father,  so  be  it ; 
will  g'o,  if  M.  le  Tellier  is  of  your  ojnnion."  Perhaps 
the  cardinal  already  knew  Le  Tellier's  opinion ;  for  when 
a  council  was  called  the  same  day  by  the  queen,  the 
secretary  strong-ly  opposed  the  desig-n,  and  Mazarin 
remained  at  the  head  of  affairs. 

Vincent  had  undertaken  his  journey  solely  for  the 
benefit  of  the  people ;  yet  it  excited  public  indignation. 
He  was  called  a  Maznrinist ;  and  those  who  a  week 
before  had  revered  him  as  a  saint,  now  coupled  his 
name  with  every  insulting*  epithet.  Not  venturing", 
therefore,  to  return  to  Paris,  he  asked  for  a  passport ; 
and  the  young*  king*,  to  show  his  love  for  him,  insisted 
upon  signing  it  himself,  and  gave  him  an  escort  as  far 
as  Villepreux. 

Our  Sain-t  was  beyond  the  reach  of  his  enemies; 
but  his  house  and  community  at  Paris  were  at  their 
mercy ;  and  quickly  did  those  who,  for  their  unwor- 
thiness,  had  been  kept  by  him  out  of  offices  of  trust, 
vent  their  spite  upon  what  the  Saint  held  so  dear. 
The  priory  or  St.  Lazarus  was  seized  by  a  pa**ty  of  citi- 
zens, headed  by  a  magistrate,  who  pretended  to  act 
w^ith  the  authority  of  the  parliament.  They  set  guards 
at  the  gates,  and  quartered  within  its  walls  a  hundred 
soldiers,  and  more  than  eight  hundred  of  the  cowardly 
'.abble  who  had  just  before  fled  in  dismay  from  the 
lioops  of  Conde,  and  who  reserved  their  valour  for  an 
attack  upon  the  inoffensive  members  of  a  religious 
house.  They  plundered  the  Fathers  of  all  that  the 
place  contained,  and  then  set  fire  to  the  outhouses. 
The  parliamei:it  was  ashamed  of  its  friends,  and  ordered 
then;  to  quit  St.  Lazanis ;  but  no  compensation  was 


CH.  XXI I.J      Vincent's  tour  in  picardy. 


189 


evor  nindo  for  the  injuiy  done.  The  principal  f^upport 
of  the  Fathers  was  deri veil  from  u  hir<2;«!  iarni  in  tJje 
nei^'hhourliood  of  Yersuilles;  but  marauding"  parties 
haa  made  t^uch  havoc,  that  it  su})plied  neitiier  cattle 
nor  corn.  Vincent  received  accounts  of  all  these  re- 
verses with  his  usual  equanimity.  "  Blessed  bo  God  1" 
"  God's  will  be  done  1"  were  his  favourite  exclamations ; 
only  he  was  careful  to  write  back  word  that  the  poor 
sliould  not  be  deprived  of  their  usual  relief^  however 
dear  corn  and  other  Ibod  mig-ht  be. 

When  Vincent  quitted  St.  Germain,  he  betook  him- 
self to  a  farmhouse  belonging*  to  his  order  at  Ville- 
preux,  near  Etampes,  where  he  intended  to  remain  dur- 
ing' the  troubles,  which  he  hoped  would  soon  be  ended. 
And  here  the  aged  and  toil-worn  Saint  gave  iiimself  up 
to  exercises  of  i)enance  and  of  rig-id  mortification.  In 
the  severity  of  winter  he  but  rareiv  kindled  a  lire,  and 
then  only  of  a  few  dry  brambles  ;  while  his  scanty  food 
was  limited  to  dry  bread  made  of  beans  and  rye.  lint 
while  thus  occupied  iu  the  care  of  his  own  soul,  he  was 
as  diligent  as  ever  in  ministering-  to  the  wants  of  those 
about  him.  Pie  preached  repeatedly  to  the  neig-hbour- 
ing'  poor,  exhorting-  them  to  bear  patiently  the  heavy 
trials  of  distress  and  famine  to  which  they  were  ex- 
posed; and  his  words  bore  fruit  in  the  salvation  of 
many  souls.  The  winter  advanced;  but  the  civil  wai* 
came  not  to  an  end.  Vincent,  therefore,  determined 
upon  extending-  his  visit  to  the  houses  of  his  cong-re- 
g-ation.  Tlie  season  w^as  unusually  inclement ;  a  wet 
autumn  had  broken  uj)  the  roads  and  inundated  the 
country ;  and  then  a  continued  frost  had  turned  into 
sheets  of  ice  the  whole  of  the.-e  stagnant  waters.  Few 
ventured  out  of  doors  ;  but  nothing-  could  stay  the  zeal 
and  energy  of  the  lion-hearted  old  man.  Pressed  down 
with  veai'S,  and  tortured  with  severe  bodih"  inlirmiti(;s, 
he  once  more  mounted  his  pony,  and  reached  Mans  in 
the  midst  of  a  violent  storm. 

The   astonishment   of  the   brethren  may  be  con- 
ceived at  the  imexpected  arrival  of  their  father  at  such 


,1' 


!'    1 


il,.;'    :' 


mm 


if 

ill 


iiJ!.;!!i;i: 


190 


8T.  VINCENT  DE   PAl; 


a  season ;  it  was  only  equalled  hj  their  joy.  Afte 
spendiiif'-  many  more  days  than  he  had  intended  at  thif 
house,  whorii  the  chief  persons  in  the  neig'hhourliood 
overwliehned  him  with  attentions,  Vincent  directed  his 
steps  towards  Angers,  in  whicli  city  the  Sisters  ot'Clia- 
rity  liad  one  of  their  principal  houses.  On  the  road, 
he  nearly  lost  his  life  in  crossing*  a  river  whicli  had 
been  g-reatly  swollen  by  the  rain  and  snow.  Tlie  jaiest 
who  accompanied  him  succeeded  in  rescning-  him ;  and 
he  went  on  his  way  as  thoug'h  nothing*  hart  hap|)ened, 
and  in  the  evening  reached  a  small  roadside  inn.  It  was 
Lent,  and  Vincent  had  tasted  nothing*  that  day.  The  old 
man,  upwards  of  seventy-three,  was  shivering*  with  cold 
in  tlie  wet  clothes  in  which  ho  had  fallen  into  the  river ; 
and  his  first  care  is — what  does  the  reader  suppose  ? — 
to  catechise  the  servants  of  the  inn.  Truly  his  food 
was  to  do  the  will  of  Him  that  sent  him  !  The  hostess, 
alike  surprised  and  edified  by  this  act  of  charity,  minis- 
tered to  his  wants  in  the  way  which  she  saw  would 
please  him  most ;  she  sent  out  for  the  children  of  the 
villag*e,  and  led  them  into  his  presence.  Vincent 
thanked  her  cordially ;  and,  separating*  the  boys  from 
the  g'irls,  he  gave  one  class  to  his  companion,  and  him- 
self taught  the  other.  With  untiring  energy  he  conti- 
nued to  instruct  his  simple  auditors ;  then  bestowing 
some  alms  upon  them,  he  dismissed  them,  and  at  last 
thought  of  supper. 

From  Auft-ers  Vincent  continued  his  iournev  to 
Rennes.  On  his  road  lie  a  second  time  narrowly 
escaped  a  fatal  accident  on  an  insecure  bridge;  but 
God  preserved  him.  One  night  he  arrived  at  a  forlorn 
cabin,  where  he  was  put  into  a  wretched  chamber, 
tliough  it  was  the  best  the  place  afforded ;  but  some 
friends  of  the  peasant  coming  in,  he  had  to  exchange 
it  for  a  filthy  garret.  On  leaving  the  next  day,  he 
g*ave  his  host  more  than  was  his  custom.  A  few  days 
aftei-wards  he  arrived  late  in  the  evening,  worn  out 
with  fatigue,  at  a  villa^-e  inn.  Scarcely  had  he  lain 
down,  when  a  crowd  of  rustics  entered  an  adjoining 


0 

lit 

od 

Ins 

la- 

ad, 

lad 

iest 

and 

lied, 

was 

)old 

cold 

iver  -, 

e?— 
food 
istess, 
[minis- 
would 
of  the 
[incent 

from 

liim- 

conti- 
bowing 
[at  last 

ley  to 
Ivvovvly 

;    l)Ut 

jfovlorn 

It  some 
3lianf?e 

',  he 
kv'days 
Irn  out 
he  l«iii 


Ijoinmg    ' 


CH.  XXII.]    Vincent's  tour  in  picardy. 


191 


chnmber,  and  spent  the  ni^^ht  in  drink'mp;,  shouting;, 
and  rioting.  When  lie  went  away  in  the  morning, 
so  fur  from  complaining  of  the  disturbance,  he  i)re- 
sentcd  his  host  with  some  beautiful  Agmis  Deis  which 
he  had  intended  for  the  Duchess  d'Aignillon  ;  so  thank- 
ful was  he  to  all  who  gave  him  an  opportunity  of  ex- 
ercising patience. 

Without  delaying  longer  upon  the  incidents  of  this 
journey,  we  may  remark,  that  from  Rennes  Vincent 
went  to  Salnt-Meen,  where  he  arrived  on  Maunday 
Thursday.  During  the  fifteen  days  that  he  reujaincd 
with  the  brethren  in  this  house,  he  gave  the  community 
his  rules,  and  busied  himself  with  all  the  energy  of  a 
young  man  in  the  duties  of  the  mission — preaching, 
hearing  confessions,  and  catechising.  He  had  visited 
Nantes  and  Lucon,  and  was  o,bout  to  proceed  on  his 
visitation  to  Saintes  and  to  the  other  houses  in  (Juyenne, 
when  an  order  from  the  queen-regent  recalled  him  to 
Paris.  In  obedience  to  the  royal  command,  Vincent 
turned  his  pony  towards  Paris  ;  but  the  severe  labours 
he  had  undergone  in  the  late  inclement  winter  were  too 
much  for  his  exhausted  frame.  With  great  difTiculty 
he  managed  to  reach  Richelieu  ;  and  there  fell  sick, 
and  could  proceed  no  further.  As  soon  as  intelligence 
of  his  illness  reached  Paris,  the  infirmarian  of  St. 
Lazarus  came  to  nurse  him  ;  and  Vincent  knew  not 
whether  to  rejoice  at  the  presence  of  one  he  loved, 
or  to  grieve  at  the  trouble  his  sickness  had  caused  his 
friend. 

The  Duchess  d'Aignillon  sent  a  carriage  to  fetch 
him  to  Paris.  There  is  a  story  connected  with  this 
same  carriage  which  is  too  characteristic  to  be  passed 
over.  It  has  been  mentioned  in  a  previous  chapter, 
that  Vincent  had  in  former  years  changed  places  with 
a  convict  in  the  galleys,  and  that  the  chain  which  he 
wore  had  inflicted  permanent  injury  upon  his  ancles. 
From  time  to  time  he  sulfcred  severely  in  his  legs  ;  but 
in  his  old  age  he  altogether  lost  the  use  of  them,  and 
could  not  walk  at  all.     He  purchasotl  a  horse  :  but  so 


ft; 


i^ 


ji.l      I 


i;ii   l;i 


192 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


old  and  infirm  was  the  «ninial,  tliiit  he  not  iinfrcqontly 
cndaii<:;(.'red  Vincent's  neck  by  his  stumbles  and  falls. 
One  of  his  friends  <^ave  him  three  Hundred  livres  to 
buy  a  better  steed  ;  but  while  lie  dehiyed  the  pnrehiisc 
a  case  of  churity  came  before  him  which  recjuired  just 
that  sum,  and  what  more  natural  than  for  Vinccmt  to 
j^ive  away  his  money,  and  content  himself  with  his  ohl 
horse  ?  Some  of  the  ladies  of  the  Confraternity  of  Cha- 
rity  now  took  the  matter  in  hand,  and  had  a  kind  of 
carria<,'e  built  wliich  was  so  simple  and  unprttendinj^ 
in  its  appearance,  that  they  hoped  even  Vincnt  would 
not  refuse  to  accept  it  :  but  the  idea  of  a  carriug-e  of 
any  kind  quite  shocked  the  humble  man,  and  i,houi>;h  he 
did  not  reject  it,  he  suffered  it  to  remain  uaused  in  tiie 
stables  of  St.  Lazarus, 

Now  it  was  this  carriage  which  the  Duchess  d'AI- 
guillon  brought  out  of  its  retirement,  and  sent  with  a 
pair  of  horses  to  bring  Vincent  from  Richelieu.  The 
Saint  could  not  but  use  it  ;  for  the  commands  of  the 
queen  where  urgent,  and  he  was  unable  to  mount  his 
horse.  But  no  sooner  did  he  rep.ch  Paris  than  he  sent 
back  carriage  and  horses  to  the  ducliess,  with  many 
expressions  of  gratitude.  Once  more  they  appeared  at 
St.  Lazarus,  with  an  earnest  request  that  he  would  use 
them,  ill  consideration  of  his  great  age  and  many  infir- 
mities. Vincent  again  refused  them,  and  declared  that 
if  the  swelling  of  his  legs  prevented  him  from  walking 
and  riding,  he  would  stay  at  home  the  remainder  of 
his  days.  The  duchess  was  as  persevering  as  the 
Saint  ;  she  inherited  Richelieu's  spirit  as  well  as  his 
wealth,  and  having  recourse  to  the  queen  and  to  tiie 
Archbishoj)  of  Paris,  she  obtained  a  positive  order  for 
Vincent  to  accept  the  carriage  and  horses,  and  to  use 
them  whenever  he  had  need.  Poor  Vincent  was  over- 
whelmed with  confusion  at  appearing  in  what  he  con- 
sidered to  be  a  style  far  above  his  position  ;  and  he 
called  them  his  shame  and  his  disgrace.  One  day 
going  to  see  the  Fathers  of  the  Oratory,  he  said  to  those 
who  accompained  him  to  the  door,  "  See  my  fathers, 


CH.  XXII. J     Vincent's  tour  in  picardy. 


193 


see  how  tho  son  of  a  poor  peasant  has  the  audacity  to 
drive  throiii^h  the  streets  in  a  earriajj^e  !" 

Vincent's  e(|uipaiifo  was  now  ol'ten  to  be  obsei'vcd  in 
the  streets  ;  and  luneh  aninsed  were  the  publie  to  seo 
the  companions  oF  his  drives.  Any  poor  creature  ^oing 
to  a  hosjMtal,  or  sinkiiijjj  l^y  the  road-side,  was  sure  to 
lind  a  seat  therein  ;  and  many  were  the  stories  whicli 
the  good  i)eopIe  of  Paris  told  in  connection  with  Vin- 
cent and  his  carriajre. 

Vincent  had  been  recalled  to  Paris  on  the  occasion 
of  the  retnrn  of  the  regent  and  the  young  king,  in 
Augnst  1G49  ;  but  before  long  the  peace  which  had  led 
to  tliis  retnrn  was  broken  ;  Conde,  Conti,  and  otliers, 
were  sent  to  Vincennes  by  Mazarin,  and  the  second  act 
of  the  drama  of  the  Fronde  began,  which  is  known  by 
the  appiillation  of  the  War  of  the  Princes.  The  contest 
lasted  till  tho  year  10.39  ;  but  we  are  here  oidy  con- 
cerned witli  the  misery  it  caused,  and  tho  part  whicli 
Vinci'nt  took  in  its  relief. 

The  Spaniards,  in  league  with  the  rebels,  devastated 
Picardy  and  Ciiampagne,  and  quickly  reduced  those 
flourishing  provinces  to  a  state  similar  to  that  in  which 
we  before  saw  unfortunate  Lorraine.  In  IGoO  Marshal 
du  Plessis-Praslin  forced  the  Archduke  Leopold  to  raise 
the  siege  of  Guise.  Paris  was  in  a  tumult  of  joy  at 
the  good  news,  and  paid  but  little  attention  to  the 
reports  which  daily  reached  it  of  the  misery  of  the 
people  in  the  late  theatre  of  war.  Not  so  Vincent  de 
Paul.  The  old  man,  in  the  midst  of  his  infirmities,  is 
as  active  as  ever  in  a  work  of  charity  ;  and  with  the 
help  of  some  friends  he  sends  off  two  of  liis  missionaries 
with  live  hundred  livres  and  a  horse-load  of  provisions 
for  the  sick  and  woimded.  The  ministers  of  mercy 
could  not  reach  the  scene  of  misery  before  their  Jitore 
was  exhausted  bv  those  who  were  starving  on  thte  toad- 
side.  They  hastened  to  the  nearest  town  to  pur^'iase 
more  food,  but  encountered  the  same  destitution,  nJuch 
every  where  prevailed.  Whitiier  could  '.  nicL-nt  turu 
for  help?     The  war  of  the  Fronde  had     //aceci  j  aris 

0 


H..  ; 


^ 


t'llj 


11 


lii: 


104 


ST.    VINCENT   DB   PAUL. 


and  its  environs  to  extreme  distress  ;  iiis  own  resources 
were  well-nigU  exlianstcd  ;  while  the  ladies  of  liis  asso- 
ciation were  nearly  overwlu'ltned  l)y  the  chiiins  of  tlio 
orplians  and  liospitals,  and  the  ten  years'  sneconr  {;ivcn 
to  Lorndne.  Tlie  Archbishop  of  Paris  agreed  to  make 
a  general  appeal  to  tlie  city  ;  a»id  Vincent  drew  np  a 
short  and  toueliing  statement  of  the  misery  whicii  called 
for  relief.  The  call  was  nobly  responded  to  ;  sixteiMi 
missionaries  and  some  Sisters  of  Charity  were  quickly 
sent  into  Picardy,  with  a  largo  supply  of  money  and 
provisions. 

There  is  no  need  to  describe  the  terrible  sufferings 
which  these  missionaries  alleviated  ;  scenes  as  horrible 
as  those  in  Lorraine  daily  met  their  eyes  ;  and  for  nearly 
ten  years  did  this  state  of  things  continue.  We  may 
form  some  idea  of  the  amount  expended,  from  the  fact, 
that  during  the  earlier  years  of  the  distress  it  varied 
from  seven  to  fifteen  hundred  pounds  a  raontli.  And 
while  these  large  sums  were  being  sent  to  a  distance, 
the  Fathers  and  others  were  equally  busy  in  assisting 
the  population  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood  of 
Paris,  who  were  suffering  but  little  less  severely.  The 
house  of  St,  Lazarus  was  nearly  empty  ;  all  except  a 
few  old  men,  who  were  too  feeble  to  take  part  in  the 
work  save  by  their  prayers,  were  labouring  in  this  ex- 
tensive Celd  of  charity.  Even  Paris  itself  was  in  a 
most  deplorable  condition.  The  blockade,  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  harvest  by  hostile  armies,  the  stoppage  of 
all  works  and  manufactures,  the  influx  of  strangers  from 
the  devastated  provinces, — all  combined  to  make  the 
capital  rival  in  misery  the  poorest  and  most  desolate 
of  the  provinces.  Here  again  was  work  for  Vincent 
and  his  friends  :  fifteen  thousand  poor  to  be  fed  daily  ; 
dwellings  to  be  provided  for  religious  who  had  fled  from 
ruined  monasteries  ;  nine  hundred  young  maidens  from 
convents  to  be  protected  and  supported.  And  in  the  midst 
of  all  these  trials,  a  new  affliction  visited  the  devoted  city 
— the  Seine  overflowed  its  banks,  and  spread  destruction 
on  all  sides.     Vincent's  resources  were  all  expended  ; 


CH.  XXII. J      VINCKNT'8  TOUU  IN  PICAUDY. 


195 


a 

lie 


but  when  ho  knew  not  where  else  to  turn,  ho  wus  suro 
to  find  tt  friend  in  Anne  of  Anstria.  Tlio  charity  of 
t  ho  regent  knew  no  bounds  ;  wlieu  her  money  was 
gone,  si>e  gave  her  jewels.  Ono  day  sho  sent  Vincent 
a  diamond  worth  350/. ;  and  on  another  bIio  took  her 
earrings  from  her  ears,  and  sent  them  to  the  hidies' 
association,  where  they  were  sold  for  nine  hundred 
pounds.  It  was  the  wish  of  the  good  queen  to  conceal 
these  acts  of  charity  ;  but  Vincent  made  them  known, 
that  others  might  imitate  her  right  royal  example. 

Thus  on  all  sides  is  there  distress  and  misery  enough 
to  weigh  down  the  energy  and  ciiarity  of  any  man. 
But  Vincent  bravely  bears  up  against  it  all  ;  his  stout 
heart  faints  not,  his  exertions  never  slacken  ;  he  seems 
to  grow  young  again,  that  he  may  respond  to  every  call, 
and  with  superhuman  zeal  achieves  whatever  he  un- 
dertakes. 

But  though  the  demands  of  charity  are  answered, 
the  frame  of  the  old  man  sinks  in  the  effort.  Tiiere  is 
a  limit  beyond  which  human  nature  cannot  go,  and  the 
over-wrought  body  yields  at  last  to  the  attacks  of  in- 
veterate disease.  The  apostle  of  charity  becomes  at 
last  the  martyr  of  charity. 


of 
om 
the 
ate 
ent 

om 
om 

Vion 
jd; 


!|:iiJii 


;1! 


196 


OJIAPTER   XXI n. 


THE  HOSPITAL  OF  THK  NAME  OF  JESUS,  AND  THE  GENEUAL 

HOSPITAL. 

O.TK  might  have  supposed  that  the  day  for  Vincent  to 
establisli  new  institutions  had  passed,  and  that  when  he 
had  reached  his  eightieth  year  he  might  have  rested  at 
least  from  the  labours  and  anxieties  of  such  under- 
takings. But  it  was  not  so  to  be.  Two  years  before, 
he  had  gone  on  several  missions,  he  had  founded  a  se- 
minary for  Scotch  children,  who  in  due  season  were  to 
be  sent  as  priests  to  their  own  country  to  continue  the 
work  which  the  Fathers  of  the  Mission  had  begun  ;  and 
now  his  last  great  public  benefaction  grows  up  under 
his  hands,  and  completes  the  cycle  of  those  noble  in- 
stitutions with  which  his  name  is  connected. 

One  day  a  citizen  of  Paris  came  and  placed  in  his 
hands  a  large  sum  of  money,  to  be  employed  as  Vin- 
cent should  think  fit.  One  condition  alone  was  at- 
tached to' the  gift,  that  under  no  circumstances  should 
the  name  of  the  donor  be  revealed.  Our  Saint  prayed 
that  God  would  make  known  to  him  the  special  use  for 
which  he  designed  this  offering  ;  and  after  gravely  and 
maturely  weighing  the  matter,  he  went  to  lay  his  plan 
before  the  generous  merchant. 

It  seems  to  have  been  the  especial  mission  of  Vin- 
cent de  Paul  to  alleviate  suffering.  From  first  to  last 
he  took  it  under  his  particular  care,  and  extended  to- 
wards it  a  hand  of  succour  at  every  stage  of  life  and  in 
every  variety  of  form.  In  earliest  infancy  his  foundling 
asylum  rescued  its  victims  from  death,  and  brought 
them  within  the  one  fold  of  Holy  Church  ;  training 
them  in  holy  ways,  and  educating  them  to  till  useful 
offices  in  society.  His  Sisters  of  Charity  sought  out 
and  instructed  the  poor  and  neglected,  watched  beside 


CH.  XXIII.] 


HOSPITALS  FOUNDBi> 


197 


the  bed  of  suffering  when  friends  grew  we«.r/,  and  po- 
verty made  itself  most  heavily  felt ;  iiis  Laaies  ol  Charity 
tended  the  sick  iu  hospitals,  and  raiuistsiea  to  the  occa- 
sional wants  of  such  as  could  generally  support  them- 
selves ;  while  every  diseased  or  afflicted  spirit  might 
find  consolation  and  direction  in  the  missions  and  re- 
treats which  the  Fathers  of  St.  Lazarus  so  constantly 
gave.  Indeed,  it  was  difficult  to  find  a  want  which 
had  not  its  remedy  already  provided  by  the  zeal  and 
devotion  of  the  apostle  of  charity  ;  and  Vincent  there- 
fore might  well  pause  before  he  determined  in  what 
new  way  to  employ  the  noble  offering  which  had  been 
placed  at  his  disposal. 

But  at  last  he  devised  a  scheme,  which  he  laid  before 
the  good  citizen  of  Paris,  and  which  met  with  his  most 
cordial  approval.  He  determined  to  found  a  hospital 
for  aged  artisans,  wherein  they  might  finish  their  lives 
in  the  exercises  of  religion,  freed  from  those  anxieties 
which  poverty  renders  so  harassing  in  old  age.  Vincent 
immediately  set  to  work  to  carry  into  effect  this  new 
design,  and  bought  two  houses  and  a  large  open  space 
in  the  Faubourg  Saint-Laurent.  He  fitted  up  an  ex- 
cellent chapel,  and  thoroughly  furnished  both  houses. 
What  money  remained  he  invested  for  an  annual  in- 
come, and  at  once  received  twenty  men  into  one  house, 
and  twenty  women  into  the  otlier.  Of  course,  the  two 
communities  were  entirely  distinct ;  yet  the  chapel  and 
the  two  refectories  were  so  arranged,  that  both  could 
assist  at  Mass  and  hear  the  spiritual  reading  at  meals 
without  seeing  one  another. 

Their  time  was  so  ordered,  that  they  had  sufficient 
occupation,  in  spiritual  exercises  and  light  labours,  to 
employ  their  minds  and  their  hands  without  distressing 
their  decaying  powers.  The  Sisters  of  Charity  assisted 
them  ;  and  the  priests  of  the  Mission  supplied  them 
with  all  needful  instructions,  saying  Mass  for  them  and 
administering  the  sacraments,  Vincent  himself  was 
frequently  among  them,  given  advice  and  devising 
little  rules  which  sanctified  all  their  actions,  and  cou- 


ti!!i 


m 


Hit 


iilli':' 


198 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


vertecj  the  establishment  into  a  kind  of  religious  house. 
He  bestowed  upon  it  the  title  of  the  Hospital  of  the 
Name  of  Jesus.  The  archbishop  gave  his  sanction,  and 
the  king  his  letters-patent  to  the  institution  ;  yet  so 
jealously  did  Vincent  preserve  the  secret  of  its  founder's 
name,  that  neither  king  nor  prelate  knew  to  whom  to 
ascribe  the  work  of  charity. 

A  house  so  well  regulated  naturally  attracted  the 
attention  of  those  who  were  best  fitted  to  profit  by  its 
wholesome  discipline  ;  and  Vincent  was  too  prudent  and 
vigilant  to  allow  any  but  such  as  could  be  thus  charac- 
terised tj  enter  under  its  roof.  It  long  continued  a 
model  hospital,  a  refuge  for  the  aged,  where  the  assist- 
ance which  charity  provided  was  administered  in  the 
spirit  of  love,  and  received  with  heartfelt  gratitude. 
Here  were  no  trustees  to  divert  the  funds  to  their  own 
profit  ;  no  oflicers  to  swallow  up  the  greater  part  in  sa- 
laries and  perquisites  ;  and  therefore  no  discontented 
pensioners  to  quarrel  over  the  miserable  pittance  which 
maladministration  doles  out. 

Like  most  of  his  institutions,  this  hospital  led  the 
way  to  other  similar  foundations.  There  is  a  fecundity 
about  Vincent's  acts  which  is  quite  marvellous.  Every 
seed  he  sows  brings  forth  a  hundredfold.  Like  a  stone 
cast  into  the  waters,  every  work  he  performs  is  the  cen- 
tre of  a  motion  which  extends  itself  in  ever-expanding 
circles  ;  but  with  this  great  difference,  that  its  power 
increases  with  each  expansion,  and  the  widest  and  most 
distant  motion  is  frequently  the  strongest  and  the  most 
influential.  So  was  it  with  the  present  work  of  charity  ; 
it  led  to  another  of  far  wider  scope,  which  dealt  with  a 
greater  evil  than  Vincent  and  his  unknown  friend  had 
ever  hoped  to  overcome.  Among  the  visitors  whom 
the  new  hospital  attracted  to  its  walls  were  the  ladies  of 
the  association  of  which  we  have  so  frequently  spoken  ; 
and  natural  enough  was  it  that  they  should  contrast  the 
piety  and  happiness  of  Vincent's  pensioners  with  the 
misery  and  dissoluteness  of  the  poor  who  swarmed  in 
Paris.     Need  we  say  that  they  did  not  content  them- 


JH.  XXUI.] 


HOSPITALS  FOUNDED. 


199 


the 

the 

in 

bin- 


selves  with  instituting  this  very  obvious  contrast  ?  The 
reader  by  this  time  will  have  learnt  to  distinguish  these 
excellent  women  from  those  who  think  they  have  done 
their  part  when  they  have  lamented  over  what  they 
take  no  pains  to  remedy  ;  and  turn  away  with  sensitive 
repugnance  from  the  sufferings  of  the  poor,  simply  be- 
cause they  are  unpleasant  to  look  upon.  And  yet  if  any 
amount  of  rudeness  and  vice  could  justify  neglect  and 
apathy,  the  beggars  of  Paris  would  have  afforded  that 
justification  ;  for  we  have  terrible  descriptions  of  their 
blasphemy  and  debauchery.  The  fierce  tones  in  which 
they  demanded  rather  than  solicited  alms,  the  threats 
of  violence  with  which  in  open  day  they  extorted  relief, 
and  which  at  night  they  frequently  enforced  by  robbery 
and  murder,  would  naturally  excite  any  feeling  rather 
than  that  of  compassion  ;  but  a  deep  and  all-embracing 
charity  impelled  these  generous  souls  to  devise  some 
application  of  Vincent's  scheme  to  these  miserable  out- 
casts of  society. 

It  was  a  bold  imagination  which  suggested  the  found- 
ing a  hospital  for  all  the  poor  of  Paris.  There  were 
at  that  time  upwards  of  forty  thousand  mendicants  in 
the  city  and  its  suburbs  ;  and  what  kind  of  mendicants 
we  have  just  seen.  It  was  indeed  a  gigantic  under- 
taking ;  yet  they  felt  that  success  would  "''own  their 
efforts  if  only  they  could  induce  Vincent  to  assist  them. 
Such  confidence  had  they,  that  they  began  at  once  to 
collect  funds  among  themselves,  and  succeeded  even 
beyond  their  hopes  ;  one  lady  giving  50,000  livres 
2500/.),  and  another  an  annual  subscription  of  3000 
livres,  (150/.).  Elated  by  this  success,  they  called  a 
meeting  of  their  association,  and  laid  their  scheme  be- 
fore our  Saint.  Vincent  was  astonished  ;  accustomed 
as  he  was  to  great  efforts  and  wide-spread  charity,  he 
by   the  vastness  of  this 


was 


staggered 


undertaking , 


but  he  did  not  condemn  it.  He  praised  them  for  their 
generous  design,  but  required  time  to  consider  before 
God  what  should  be  done.  A  week  passes,  and  another 
meeting  is  held.     The  ladies  return  with  increased  zeal 


mm 


200 


ST.  VINCENT  DB  PAUL. 


to  the  work  ;  they  see  their  way  towards  raising  the 
necessary  funds,  and'  insist  on  making  a  begiiuiing. 
Vincent  himself  allows  that  the  thing  is  feasible,  but 
recommends  more  consideration,  and  tries  hard  to  mo- 
derate the  impetuosity  of  the  ladies.  In  vain  ;  the 
question  is  put,  "  Shall  the  association  undertake  the 
responsibility  of  such  a  hospital  or  not  ?"  and  every 
voice  replies  in  the  affirmative. 

Vincent  hesitates  no  longer.  He  applies  to  the 
king  for  a  grant  of  the  Sulpetr'ere,  which  was  a  large 
building  well  suited  for  the  purpose  ;  and  Anne  of 
Austria,  as  usual,  assists  him  in  the  application.  Xo 
time  is  wasted  in  fitting  up  the  building  thus  granted 
with  all  that  was  required  ;  and  some  of  the  ladies  are 
so  anxious  to  commence  operations,  that  they  abso- 
lutely wish  not  only  to  receive  at  once  all  the  poor  who 
are  willing  to  enter,  but  to  force  every  beggar  in  Paris 
into  its  walls.  "  VVe  wish  to  benefit  them,"  they  said  ; 
"  and  what  does  it  matter  how  we  bring  them  to  our 
institution  ?"  In  short,  they  would  have  seized  upon 
every  medicant  who  fell  in  their  way,  and  compelled 
him  to  accept  the  blessings  they  had  provided. 

Vincent  had  now  better  grounds  of  opposition  ;  and 
their  good  sense  soon  yielded  to  his  quiet  reasoning, 
when  he  showed  them  tho,t  large  works  of  charity,  like 
those  of  nature,  must  grow  gradually,  and  from  small 
beginnings,  if  they  are  to  be  permanent.  *'  The  desire 
to  do  every  thing  at  once,"  he  said,  "  is  a  temptation, 
which,  like  all  other  temptations,  must  be  resisted. 
Our  Lord  might,  had  He  so  pleased,  have  established  the 
Church  in  his  own  time  in  every  part  of  the  world  ; 
but  He  was  content  to  lay  the  foundation,  and  to  leave 
the  rest  to  His  Apostles  and  their  successors.  We  must 
not  think  that  all  is  lost,  if  every  one  is  not  anxious  to 
co-operate  in  our  plans.  What  we  need  is,  to  go  on 
quietly,  to  act  in  harmony,  and,  above  all,  to  pray  ear- 
nestly," He  then  proposed  that  they  should  make  a 
trial  with  one  or  two  hundred  who  would  come  of  their 
own  accord.     If  they  succeeded  with.theso,  others  wonld 


CH.  xxiri.] 


HOSPITALS  FOUNDED. 


201 


ill 


speedily  offer  themselves :  and  thus  the  institution 
would  grow  by  dej^rees  into  its  full  dimensions,  and 
no  fiiiir  need  be  entertained  but  that  it  was  of  God. 
-  But  there  were  others  who  threw  serious  obstacles 
in  the  way  of  the. hospital,  even  in  this  modified  form, 
and  who  forced  Vincent  to  delay  the  work  longer  than 
he  wished.  It  required  the  sanction  of  tiio  magis- 
tracy ;  consequently  the  letters-patent  of  the  king  had 
to  be  registered  by  the  parliament  ;  and  here  a  [»ower- 
ful  opposition  arose.  Many  members  thought  the 
scheme  rash  and  extravagant,  and  declared  that  the 
public  safety  would  be  endangered  by  collecting  so 
large  and  disorderly  a  body  in  one  place.  Vincent  had 
much  trouble  in  overcoming  this  obstacle  ;  but  patience, 
and  the  influence  of  his  friends,  at  length  carried  the 
day.  Yet,  after  all,  so  many  practical  difficulties  pre- 
sented themselves,  that  two  years  had  passed  before 
the  institutions  could  be  settled  upon  a  firm  basis.  lu 
April  1656  the  king  issued  an  edict,  vesting  the  admi- 
nistration of  the  general  hospital  hi  a  body  of  twenty- 
six  gentlemen  of  experience  and  approved  probity. 

It  was  rather  in  accordance  with  the  original  idea 
of  the  ladies  than  with  that  of  Vincent,  that  it  was  de- 
termined that  every  beggar  in  Paris  should  be  com- 
pelled either  to  earn  his  own  living  or  to  enter  the 
general  hospital.  Vincent  transferred  to  the  autho- 
rities the  house  of  Salpetriere,  and  also  that  of  Bicetre, 
which  the  queen-regent  had  before  granted  him  for  the 
foundlings  ;  and  it  was  announced  from  every  pulpit 
in  Paris,  that  on  the  1th  of  March  165T  the  general 
hospital  would  be  opened,  and  that  after  the  said  day 
no  one  would  be  allowed  to  beg  in  the  streets.  It  sur- 
prised nobody  to  find  that  on  the  appointed  day  the 
great  majority  of  the  idle  beggars  disappeared  as  by 
magic  ;  yet  four  or  five  thousand  remained,  of  whom 
tiie  greater  part  thankfully  availed  themselves  of  the 
great  institution  provided  for  them  ;  and  those  who  had 
laboured  so  zealously  in  its  foundation  had  cause  to  re 
joice  in  its  success. 


iiiii 


li   ! 


Hllil 


202 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


Vincent  declined  th§  appointment  of  spiritual  direc- 
tor alike  for  himself  and  for  his  order,  but  recommended 
as  rector  of  the  hospital  one  whom  he  knew  well,  and 
in  whom  he  had  the  greatest  confidence.  This  was 
Louis  Abelly,  at  that  time  a  parislj  priest  in  Paris, 
under  whose  management  a  spirit  of  order  and  dis- 
cipline grew  up  in  the  house  which  bore  abundant  fruit 
in  the  sanctification  of  its  inmates.  After  a  time  Abelly 
was  promoted  to  the  bishopric  of  Rodez  ;  but  at  the 
end  of  three  years  he  resigned  that  dignity,  and  came 
back  to  Paris  to  finish  his  days  in  the  Priory  of  St. 
Lazarus.  To  him  we  are  indebted  for  the  earliest  and 
best  life  of  Vincent  de  Paul ;  and  from  his  abundant 
materials  most  of  the  subsequent  biographies  of  our 
Saint  have  been  drawn. 


203 


CHAPTER  XXrV. 

DEATH  AND  CANONISATION  OF  VINCENT  DB  PAin:<. 

The  suffering's  with  which  Vincent  was  afflicted  in- 
creased Lorn  day  to  day;  yet  his  attention  to  the  many 
duties  which  pressed  upon  him  continued  imabated. 
And  many  and  various  indeed  were  they;  for  there 
was  scarcely  a  work  of  mercy  undertaken  in  France 
without  his  being;  consulted ;  and  many  a  strang-er 
came  from  other  countries  to  lay  his  plans  before  the 
great  apostle  of  charity.  Letters  poured  in  upon  him 
from  all  sides,  which  he  made  it  his  business  to  read 
attentively  and  to  answer  fully.  Responsibilities  ap- 
peared to  multiply  with  his  increasing  years;  and  others 
seemed  as  little  to  consider  the  burden  they  were  laying 
upon  the  aged  man  as  he  did  himself. 

For  some  years  past  he  had  been  unable  to  walk ; 
but  now  his  infirmities  prevented  him  from  moving 
down  stairs,  so  that  he  was  obliged  to  say  Mass  in  the 
chapel  of  the  infirmary.  After  a  while  he  entirely  lost 
the  use  of  his  limbs,  and  could  no  longer  stand  at  the 
aliar.  His  only  consolation  was  in  assisting  at  Mass,  and 
in  communicating  every  morning;  daily  might  the 
aged  servant  of  God  be  seen  dragging  his  powerless 
limbs  into  the  chapel  by  the  help  of  crutches.  In  vain 
his  fi'iends  besought  him  to  allow  an  altar  to  be  fitted 
up  near  his  chamber,  that  he  might  hear  Mass  without 
undergoing  so  much  fatigue ;  he  refused  the  indulgence, 
and  with  difficulty  consented  to  be  carried  to  the  chapel 
in  his  chair.  He  could  not  endure  the  idea  of  giving 
trouble,  or  of  doing  any  thing  unusual.  His  nights  were 
as  full  of  suff(!ring  as  his  days,  and  every  little  comfort 
which  might  have  alleviated  his  pains  was  most  reso- 
lutely rejected ;  for  he  would  take  nothing  more  thai:. 
the  rule  directed^  and  would  omit  no  practice  which 


204 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


thjit  nile  enjoined.     Thus  he  sti  1  continued  to  rise  nt  *• 
four,  and  spent  three  hours  in  prnyer  before  Mass.    He 
felt  tliat  he  was  g-radually  sinking- ;  but  as  throug'hout 
life,  so  at  its  close,  he  was  quite  indifferent  whetlier  to  ■ 
live  or  die,  whether  to  suffer  pain  or  to  obtain  relief.  - 
His  only  prayer  was  that  the  will  of  God  mig-ht  be 
done. 

Those  who  visited  him  at  this  time  found  him  as 
patient,  as  cheerful,  and  as  tender-hearted  as  of  old. 
He  was  as  busy  as  ever  in  works  of  charity,  as  careful 
to  g-ive  each  one  about  him  the  necessary  directions, 
and  as  willing'  to  listen  to  all  who  could  plead  any  or 
no  excuse  for  troubling*  him.  Who  that  heard  that 
voice  so  blithe,  whose  tones  had  all  the  music  of  cluii'ity ; 
who  that  beheld  those  eyes  beaming'  with  the  fervour 
of  devotion,  or  watched  that  sweet  angelic  smile,  which 
bespoke  the  innocence  of  his  soul,  would  have  g'uessed 
the  continual  agony  which  racked  his  exhausted  frame, 
as  he  sat  there  in  his  chair,  clad  in  his  usual  dress,  so 
calm  and  g-entle,  and  spoke  of  his  sickness  so  lightly 
and  unconcernedly?  Yes,  there  he  sat,  awaiting*  the 
call  of  his  Lord  and  Master,  and  daily  renewing  his 
preparation.  Every  morning*  after  Mass  he  repeated 
the  prayers  of  the  Church  for  those  who  are  in  their  last 
agony,  and  the  commendation  of  a  departing  soul; 
while  every  night  he  made  ready  to  meet  the  Judge 
whom  he  had  served  so  long  and  faithfully.  Deep  hu- 
mility, that  surest  test  of  sanctity,  dwelt  in  his  heart, 
and  spoke  from  his  lips  in  lowliest  accents  of  self-con- 
demnation. "  One  of  these  days,"  said  he  to  those 
about  him,  "  the  miserable  body  of  this  old  sinner  will 
be  laid  in  the  ground  j  it  will  turn  to  dust,  and  you  will 
tread  it  under  foot.  Alas !  my  Lord,  I  live  too  long  j 
for  there  is  no  amendment  in  me,  and  my  sins  multiply 
with  the  number  of  my  years." 

And  now  the  news  spreads  through  Europe  that 
Vincent  de  Paul  is  dying' ;  .and  the  universal  Church 
is  moved  at  the  coming  loss.    The  Sovereign  Pontiff,   • 
Alexander  YIL,  writes  and  begs  him  to  husband  his  ^ 


)se 
rill 
rill 


lat 

tiff. 
Iliis 


CH.  XXIV.]  EATH  AND  CANONISATION.  206 

strength,  and  dispenses  him  from  faying"  office;  and 
many  of  the  chief"  ecclesiastics  in  Rome  urge  liim  to 
accept  the  dispensation.  But  when  these  letters  reach 
Paris  Vincent  is  dead :  his  hreviary  was  never  laid  aside; 
his  office  was  said  up  to  his  last  hour,     v 

Some  days  hefore  his  death  he  became  subject  to 
frefpiont  attacks  of  lethargic  heaviness,  which  he  re- 
cognised as  sure  forerunners  of  the  last  great  sleep. 
''Tills  is  the  brother,"  he  said  with  a  sweet  smile; 
"  the  sister  will  not  long  delay  her  coming ;"  and  tiien 
he  prayed  those  who  stood  around  him  "  to  excuse  tlie 
trouble  he  gave  them."  On  the  25th  of  Se})tember 
this  lethargic  sleep  came  uj)on  liim  at  noon,  and  lasted 
longer  than  it  had  ever  done  before.  The  following  day 
was  Sunday.,  and  Vincent  was  able  to  hear  Mass  and 
to  communicate ;  but  scarcely  had  he  been  carried  back 
to  his  room  before  he  fell  into  a  heavy  slumber.  The 
brother  who  was  attending  u[)on  him  roused  him  several 
times ;  but  he  quickly  relapsed.  The  physician  was 
sent  for,  who  acknowledged  that  nothing  more  could  be 
done,  and  that  Extreme  Unction  miglit  be  administered. 
He  then  roused  him  once  more,  and  spoke  to  him.  Vin- 
cent answered  him  calmlv,  but  after  a  few  words  he 
stopj)od ;  his  tongue  refused  its  office,  and  he  had  not 
strength  to  finish  the  sentence. 

His  spiritual  children  now  saw  that  they  were  on 
the  point  of  losing  him,  and  collected  around  their 
father ;  and  one  of  the  ])rie.sts  of  the  mission  begged 
him  to  bless  them.  Vmcent  with  difficulty  raised  his 
heiid ;  he  liad  heard  the  request,  and  would  grant  it, 
cost  him  what  pnin  it  might.  With  a  look  of  deepest 
affection  he  raised  his  hand,  and,  with  a  strength  of 
voice  which  astonished  them  all,  he  began  the  formula 
of  benediction ;  but  soon  his  voice  sank,  and  the  con- 
cluding* words  could  scarcely  be  heard. 

The  same  night  he  received  Extn  me  Unction,  and 
occupied  himself  in  contemplation  and  in  communion 
with  God.  Occasionally  he  fell  into  a  doze;  but  the 
single  word  "  Jesus"  sufficed  to  mouse  him.     When 


206 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


that  verso  of  the  sixty-nintli  psahn  met  liis  ear,  "  0 
Lonl,  make  5»i)eed  to  save  mo,"  ho  tried  hard  to  rej^ly, 
"  0  (iod,  make  liasto  to  help  me." 

At  a  (|unrter-past  four,  on  the  morninp;'  of'tlie  2?t}i, 
M.  In  Pretre,  wlio  was  a  member  of  the  Tuesday  con- 
ferences, and  one  of  Vincent's  particular  friends,  being* 
at  that  time  in  retreat  in  the  he  ise,  came  into  tlio 
cliamber.  Vincent  was  in  his  chair,  from  whicli  lio  iuid 
not  moved  for  twenty-four  hours  l)ecause  of  his  extreme 
weakness.  M.  le  Pretre  b(*g'g-ed  iiim  to  g'ive  liis  bless- 
iiv^'  for  the  last  time  to  tlie  com])any  to  which  lio  be- 
long'cd,  and  to  pray  God  that  it  mig-lit  never  deg-enerate 
from  its  first  fervour.  The  dying*  saint,  instead  of  a 
blessing',  g*ave  a  j)romise,  replying-  in  tiie  words  of  St. 
Paul,  "  lie  who  hath  begun  a  good  work  in  you  will 
bring*—"  his  voice  failed  him  ere  he  could  complete  the 
verse,  and  he  bowed  his  head  and  expired.  The  lamp 
had  burnt  itself  out,  the  oil  was  exhausted ;  and  thus, 
without  an  etltbrt,  calndy  and  peaceably  his  spirit  re- 
turned to  Him  who  gave  it. 

IS'o  change  passed  over  that  benign  countenance. 
Vincent  seemed  sleei)ing'  in  his  chair  ;  but  he  was  with 
God.  The  trials  of  life  had  passed, — its  duties  had 
been  fulfilled  ;  and,  like  him  whose  words  were  the  last 
upon  his  dying  lipsj  he  had  finished  his  course,  he  had 
kept  the  faith,  and  he  had  gone  to  receive  the  crown 
which  was  laid  up  for  him  in  heaven. 

The  Fathers  of  the  Mission  were  saying*  matins 
when  Vincent  de  Paul  died,  on  the  27th  of  September 
1600,  in  the  eighty-fifth  year  of  his  age. 

The  body,  which  remained  })erfectly  flexible,  was 
exposed,  first  in  the  house,  and  then  in  the  Church  of 
St.  Lazarus,  until  the  followino;  day,  when  it  was  en- 
closed in  a  leaden  cofHn.  The  heart  of  the  Saint,  how- 
ever, was  deposited  in  a  silver  vase,  which  the  Duchess 
d'Aiguillon  presented  for  that  purpose.  All  Paris  fol- 
lowed him  in  crowds  to  the  grave ;  hig-h  and  low  alike 
strove  to  testify  their  love  and  reverence  to  one  who 
had  been  the  friend  and  benefactor  of  every  class.    Hiis 


en.  xxiv.j       1)i:ath  and  canonisation. 


207 


pance. 

5  with 
had 
last 
had 

crown 


as  en- 

how- 

uchess 

is  Ibl- 

ahke 

who 

His 


body  wns  intonod  in  tlic  centre  of'tlie  clioir,  mid  on  liis 
tomb  is  inscriliod  the  following'  cpitiiph  : — ''  Jl'ir  jdcct 
vcHcnibtlis  vir  Vhwoitiu-s  a  l'((ulo,])trxhijt<'r,  Junddtor 
fit'U  inxtitiifoi'  vt  primufi  .si/ficrior  (joicrulin  Caiit/rrf/d- 
tioHts  3Ji.s.sion}.<(  nccuun  PuclJurum  CliarHiitia.  ()'  :tt 
d'lt'  12?  ^Stpfonl/ri.'i  (tnni  1000,  fctntls  rcro  .sun-  f^o." 
("  Hero  lies  tliiit  vonerahle  man,  Vincent  do  I'iin),  jiiie>t, 
iouuiler  or  institntor  and  first  g'enend  sunerio.v  of  tiio 
Conji'reg'ation  of  tlio  31ission,  as  also  of  tlio  Sisters  of 
Charity.  Ho  died  on  the  'J7tli  of  September  lOOU,  in 
the  eij^hty-iil'th  year  of  his  n|^'e.") 

All  felt  that  tiiey  had  lost  a  dear  and  g'enerous 
friend.  It  was  not  as  if  they  knew  him  only  l»y  report, 
or  that  he  had  occasionally  crossed  their  j)atli ;  he  was 
something"  liir  more  than  a  mere  ja-ominent  character 
whose  virtue  was  extolled  and  zeal  commended  by 
those  who  knew  liim  only  by  hearsay ;  Vincent  had  been 
among-  them,  sympathisinj^'  with  every  sorrow,  and  re- 
lieving* every  distress.  When  their  son  Is  were  op- 
1)ressed  with  sin,  into  his  ear  the  tale  of  misery  had 
)een  j)ourcd,  and  from  his  li])s  the  words  of  ghostly 
counsel  and  comfort  had  tlowctl.  Did  they  yearn, 
amid  the  false  glitter  and  fierce  struggle  of  the  world, 
for  something"  higher  and  j)urer  than  they  had  before 
known,  Vincent  was  there  to  })oint  the  way,  and  to 
cheer  them  on  by  his  brig-ht  example  in  the  narrow 
path.  The  tones  of  his  voice,  his  very  smile,  were 
familiar  to  most  of  them ;  and  few  indeed  who  had 
seen  and  heard  but  had  learned  to  love  and  venerate. 

It  was  a  sad  day  for  thousands  when  the  grave 
closed  over  him ;  and  many  a  bitter  tear  the}'  sl.'ed, 
not  for  his  loss,  but  for  their  own.  For  who  should 
now  guide  the  Fathers  of  the  Mission  ?  who  should 
watch  over  the  many  charities  which  he  had  founded  ? 
who  should  care  for  his  orphans,  for  his  Sisters  of  Cha- 
rity, for  his  poor  prisoners  i*  who  should  minister  to 
tlie  wants  of  whole  provinces,  and  sustain  the  Church 
of  France  at  the  high  standard  to  which  he  had  raised 
it  i*    Grief  mig-ht  thus  question  j  but  faith  would  quickly 


\<% 


208 


ST.  VINCENT  I)K  PATTL. 


roply,  Tlio  spirit  of  Vincnnt  do  Piiiil  roirmins;  it  has 
not  pusscd  uwiiy  wifJi  liis  lift;  on  ciirth.    And  oxpcnence 
Inis  loni^'  sinc(?  proviul  what  faith  wouhl  liavo  su;i<^'('st«'(l. 
Tin*  work  iudncul  was  Vinc(3nt's.     Th((  inij)r('ss  of  liis 
mind  is  staniptnl  ni»on  it;  and  tiii'ouji'li  tinio  it  nmst 
l)Hai'  thosH  swnot  tokens  of  its  earthly  fath(!r.     But  in 
anotIi(M'  and   a  hi^^'hor  sonso   it  is  the  work  of  Uod. 
Vincrnt  was  l)ut  tlie  apj)oint©d  instrument  i'w  its  uc- 
conipUshment ;    the   Church    trained   iiini    for  liis   hi- 
bonr  of  love ;    slio  f*'ave  him  the  means  hy  wjiieh   he 
wrou;4'ht  it ;    throu^'h  her  lio  fuUllied  his  pait ;  and 
when  he  went  to  his  nnvard,  she  earried  on  the  work 
she  had   liers(»lf  inspired.      And  tlan-efoiv,  while  we 
love  and  venerate  liim  who  spent  himscflf  so  entirely 
and  ungTudj^ini^'ly  in  the  service  of  (rod  and  of  Ins 
brc'thren,  our  devotion  is  the  more  intiana'd  towru-ds 
lier  who  is  tlu!  ptn-e  Spouse  of  Christ,  and  the  fruitful 
JMnther  of  Saints.     As  of  Christianity  its(flf,  it   nniy 
wirh  all  Hfverence  he  said  of  what  Vincent  wn>u^'ht, 
that  if  it  were  of  man,  it  would  have  come  to  nong-ht, 
but  beino-  of  God,  it  will  a))ide.     It  has  stood  the  t»^st 
of  two  hundi'cd  yeais  ;  and  not  one  leaf  of  Vincent's 
wreath  of  charity  has   fallen.     Storms  of  civil  strife, 
such  as  tlu^  world  never  saw  ])ef()re,  have  ])assed  over 
tlie  land  which  Vincent  lilessed ;  every  hunum  institu- 
tion fell  })efore  them  ;  yet  his  work  abides.     And  how 
abides  ?  not  as  a  curious   relic  of  jmst  times,  which 
j)oetry  embfilms  and  taste  admires ;  not  as  an  institu- 
tion which  is  nplield  by  force  of  law,  and  barely  main- 
tains a  sterile  and  Lmf'-uisliing'  existence  ;  but  with  all 
the  freshness  of  j)Hremiial  youth,  w'ith  all  the  viji'our 
of  robust  maturity,  it  ilourishes  ia  its  native  soil,  and 
contiimally  sends  forth  branches  into  evei'y  quarter  of 
the  world. 

Vincent  had  brcn  dead  thirty-seven  years  before  his 
spiritual  children  moved  for  his  beatitication.  They 
had  learnt  from  their  founder  not  to  be  hasty  in  any 
important  matter.     In   1697   the   examination   com- 


CH.  XXIV.]        liE.^TH  AND  CANONISATION. 


209 


nn'McfMl  of  scvt'ial  iiiinn'Ics  wliicli  luid  licrn  wroivilit  iit 
liistoinl).  TIh'  jculoiis  sci'iitiny  with  wliicli  tlu;  (Miiircli 
80  wisely  cxMiuint's  rlu'  tcsrimony  mlduccd  in  siudi 
cnsos  jn'olon^cd  tlio  iiuniirv  f'oi"  scvonil  yt'ura;  but  so 
convincing'  was  tlio  residf,  tluit  (JlciiK^iit  XI.  wiis  ovcr- 
wlidiiu'd  with  letters  in  favour  of  the  l)eatificati()n  of 
Vincent.  To  show  how  wide  tin;  feelinj;*  extended,  and 
how  tnaiiy  g-reat  persona ji'es  jjiirticipated  in  tlu!  j;'enei-al 
desire,  it  will  sulKee  to  mention  the  Ivinj:;'  of  France,  the 
exilc'l  .James  II.  of  Ijiii^'laiid  and  his  (jueen,  the  Grand 
I)uk(!  of  Tuscany,  the  Duke  of  Lori'aine,  the  heads  of 
thelienoi^se  Uejjuhlic,  besides  u  crowd  of  (lardimds  and 
Bishops,  ainon;i'  whom  are  conspicuous  tho  names  of 
Bossuet,  Fenelon,  and  Flechier. 

One  day  the  coinniissioners  were  carrying*  on  tlieir 
infpiii'i(^s  at  Marseilles,  and  chanced  to  ask  an  old  blind 
convict  if  lie  had  known  \'iiicent :  "Oh,  yes,"  he  re- 
plied, "  I  made  my  g'entMal  confession  to  him ;  he  wus 
a  very  holy  man.  But  why  tlo  you  ask  mo  about 
him/"  "'riiey  are  g'oin;^*  to  canonise  him,"  was  the 
reply.  *'  You  are  wasting"  your  time,"  cried  out  the  old 
nnui ;  "' IM.  ^'itleent  will  never  allow  that;  lu'  was  nuich 
too  humble  to  suffer  any  such  thing-."  Coidd  there 
be  hig'her  testimony  to  the  profound  humility  of  the 
Saiut  ' 

In  1705  tho  assem1)ly  of  the  clergy  of  France  pe- 
titioned the  Sovereig'n  Pontitf,  and  the  process  began. 
It  was  dilKcult  among'  so  many  authenticated  mirach's 
to  make  a  selection,  and  at  first  sixty-four  were  chosen  ; 
but  to  shorten  the  inquiry,  a  smaller  number  was  at 
last  named  to  be  submittetl  to  th.it  rig^id  examination, 
the  most  severe  which  human  evidence  ever  undergoes. 
Amonj^  the  miracles  thus  tested  and  proved  were  the 
following"  cases  of  huftinfiincons  and  complete  cures 
wroug'ht  jit  Vincent's  tomb. 

A  young'  man  who  had  been  blind  for  eig'hteen 
months  recovered  his  si«;'ht.  A  vouny  g'irl  who  had 
been  dumb  and  paralysed  in  all  her  lind)s  from  hoj-  birth 
received  tlie  use  of  her  tong-ue  and  limbs.     Mathurine 


1 


I 


210 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


Guerin,  Superior  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity  at  Paris,  was 
cured  of  an  ulcer  in, the  leg-,  with  wliich  she  had  been 
afflicted  for  three  years,  and  wliich  had  been  pronounced 
incnrable  by  medical  treatment.  Another  case  was  that 
of  a  young*  man  completely  paralysed  in  his  feet  and 
hands,  who  was  brought  to  the  tomb,  and  walked  away 
with  the  complete  use  of  his  limbs. 

Vincent  de  Paul  was  beatified  by  Benedict  XIII.  in 
the  year  1729.  New  miracles  followed  upon  the  decla- 
ration, and  in  1737  the  bull  of  his  canonisation  was  pub- 
lished by  Clement  XII.,  and  the  servant  of  God  was 
proclaimed  a  Saint,  witli  the  usual  solemnities,  in  the 
church  ot  St.  John  Lateran. 

Sancte  Vinccnti  a  Pattlo,  ora  pro  nolm. 

Our  task  is  done.  There  are  many  incidents  in  the 
life  of  St.  Vincent  which  have  not  been  noticed ;  many 
works  of  wliich  we  have  not  spoken ;  for  what  space 
would  suffice  to  record  tlie  details  of  so  long*  a  life,  and 
one  so  crowded  with  g'ood  works'?  But  enough,  we 
trust,  has  been  told  to  show  what  Divine  grace  enabled 
one  poor  man  to  do  for  the  glory  of  God  and  the  benefit 
of  his  fellow-creatures.  Witliout  the  advantages  of 
birth  or  fortune,  -  for  he  was  but  the  son  of  a  poor  pea- 
sant in  an  obscure  village, — without  those  mighty  gifts 
of  intellect  which  oftentimes  supply  the  lock  of  worldly 
influence,  —in  times  of  great  spiritual  desolation  and 
national  distress,  Vincent  de  Paul  conferred  greater  be- 
nefits on  his  country  and  on  mankind  than  any  one  of 
those  whose  names  stand  hig-hest  in  his  nation's  roll  of 
fame.  With  no  profound  speculations  and  no  elaborate 
schemes,  he  alleviated  public  distress,  and  raised  the 
ecclesiastical  character  from  a  state  of  degradation  to 
a  ])osition  of  honour  and  respect.  With  no  rhetorical 
skill,  he  stirred  the  heart,  not  of  a  class,  ])ut  of  a 
nation.  Himself  no  politician,  he  swayed  in  many 
important  matters  the  mind  of  a  Richelieu  and  of  a 
Mazaiin. 

What,  then,  was  the  secret  of  his  success  ?  It  was 
this :  he  had  one  idea,  one  aim.    There  is  a  wonderful 


XXIV.j         DEATH  AND  CANONISATION. 


211 


power  in  tlie  devotion  of  one  unselfish  will  to  a  life- 
enduring'  object.  No  temptation  can  lure  it  from  irs 
path,  no  opposition  can  discourage,  no  adversity  can 
daunt,  no  suffering'  can  crush.  Amidst  the  cliang-pfid 
moods,  varying*  interests,  and  short-lived  passions  of  all 
ai-ound,  it  pursues  its  way  with  its  eye  fixed  on  the  g'oal 
of  tliat  race  which  is  not  to  the  swift  nor  to  the  strong*, 
but  to  the  persevering*.  If  such  be  the  case  even  in 
human  aifairs,  how  much  more  may  it  witii  truth  be 
said  of  those  whom  God  has  raised  up  from  time  to 
time  to  accomplish  some  great  work  in  the  Church ! 
The  heroes  and  conquerors  of  Christian  annals  have 
been  emphatically  men  of  one  idea  and  one  aim ;  and 
Vincent  de  Paul  differed  not  from  his  brethren  in  ex- 
alted sanctity.  He  placed  himself  entirely  and  unre- 
servedly in  the  hands  of  God,  liavino*  no  other  d(^sire 
but  to  please  Him  and  to  do  His  will.  He  g-ave  him- 
self up  body  and  soul  to  do  his  Master's  work  with  an 
undivided  heart  and  an  inflexible  ])urpose.  He  beheld 
his  Saviour  in  every  one  witii  whom  he  had  to  do,  and 
honoured  Him  in  them.  In  the  illustrious  house  in 
which  he  spent  so  many  years,  he  tells  us  that  he  never 
entered  the  i)resence  of  his  patrons  without  seeing*  God's 
g*reatness  in  them.  No  poor  sufferer  did  he  relieve  but 
he  worshipped  in  him  the  "  Man  of  Sorrows."  Did  he 
gTow  faint  under  the  heavy  burdens  which  charity  im- 
})c)sod  upon  him,  there  was  refresliment  in  the  thuug-lit 
of  Him  who  rested  in  weariness  by  Jacob's  well.  Was 
he  consumed  by  the  fever  which  ^carcely  ever  left  him, 
or  tortured  by  the  terrible  ulcers  which  for  years  made 
every  movement  excruciating*  suffering*,  he  sustained 
himself  by  the  memory  of  the  Ag'ony  in  the  Garden 
and  of  the  Passion  of  the  Cross.  Therefore  it  was  that 
he  could  smile  on  all,  and  that  he  was  cheerful  in  the 
darkest  hour.  But  more  than  all,  the  secret  of  his 
success  was  this,  that  He  whom  he  so  loved  was 
ever  with  him,  or  rather  in  him;  working'  with  his 
hands,  speaking-  by  his  lips,  and  imparting*  power  and 
virtue  to  his  blessing.    We  need  not  marvel,  then,  at 


B 


212 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


his  success;  lie  had  faith,  and  therefore  he  wroug-ht 
wonders. 

But  if  the  greatness  of  tlie  work  he  achieved,  hy  the 
aid  of  human  means  apparently  so  inadequate,  be  mat- 
ter of  surprise  to  the  many,  to  the  thoughtful,  perhaps, 
it  may  seem  more  wonderful  thnt  one  who  was  involved 
in  such  multifarious  em[)loyments,  and  forced  into  so 
much  intercourse  with  the  world,  should  still  be  able  to 
maintain  such  close  union  with  God,  and  to  preserve  a 
s[»irit  of  such  perfect  recollection.  It  was  the  severe 
discipline  by  which  he  ruled  his  life,  which,  upheld  him 
amid  the  distractions  of  his  hiborious  career.  They 
who  saw  Vincent  only  in  the  business  of  daily  charity, 
hastening"  through  the  streets  of  Paris  on  some  errand 
of  mercy,  or  to  attend  some  committee  of  his  many  in- 
stitutions, with  beaming'  comitenance  and  kind  word  for 
all,  little  thought,  perhaps,  of  the  early  rising-,  the  long- 
meditation,  the  office  recited  on  his  knees,  the  daily  Sa- 
crifice, the  hours  of  silence,  and  the  scant  coarse  fare. 
The  unction  of  prayer  was  upon  him,  and  its  fragrant 
g-races  flowed  over  upon  all  who  came  within  his  in- 
fluence. No  wonder  that  men  grew  better  in  his  pre- 
sence, that  children  clung-  fondly  to  him,  that  sin- 
hardened  hearts  grew  tender,  and  that  the  sick  recovered, 
as  he  drew  near.  lie  come  like  Moses  from  the  Mount ; 
and  the  glory  of  the  Divine  Presence  was,  as  it  were, 
visible  round  about  him. 

Such  a  man  could  venture  forth  safely  into  a  world 
which  he  visited  only  as  an  apostle  of  charity.  His 
actions,  his  works,  flowed  not  from  a  spirit  of  busy 
active  benevolence ;  they  were  the  outpourings  of  that 
love  of  which  he  had  drunk  deep  at  the  foot  of  his 
crucifix :  Calvary  was  ever  before  his  eyes ;  Calvary 
was  set  up  in  his  heart.  His  rule  was  a  simple  one ; 
and  in  that  rule  he  found  at  once  both  safety  and  suc- 
cess:  he  first  gave  himself  wholly  to  God,  and  then  to 
the  work  which  God  set  him  to  do. 

To  estimate  aright  the  work  which  Vincent  de  Paul 
accomplished,  we  must  compare  the  France  of  his  early 


)usy 
I  that 
his 
|vary 
me; 
I  sue- 
In  to 

*aiil 
tarly 


CH.  XXIV.]         DEATH  AND  CANONISATION.  213 

days  with  the  nation  as  he  left  it  when  he  went  to  his 
reward.  He  found  the  clerg-j  degTaded,  and  religion 
itself  neglected.  The  name  of  priest  was  a  title  of  con- 
tempt ;  and  those  who  held  rich  abbeys  and  hi»*h  eccle- 
siastical preferment,  generally  as  the  reward  of  military 
or  political  services,  took  every  opportunity  of  con- 
vincing- the  world  that  they  were  not  of  the  despised 
order.  It  was  his  privilege  to  raise  up  into  due  honour 
that  rank  which  ignorance  and  neglect  had  thus  de- 
graded ;  to  exclude  the  unworthy  iiom  positions  of  im- 
portance ;  and  to  train  the  young  for  the  due  discharge 
of  their  sacred  duties.  He  saw  and  deplored  the  state 
of  the  clergy ;  and  he  devoted  his  mighty  energies  to 
raise  and  reform  it.  We  have  seen  him  founding  semi- 
naries for  the  }oiing,  and  colleges  for  the  more  ad- 
vanced students ;  instituting  spiritual  retreats  for  those 
about  to  be  ordained,  and  conferences  to  sustain  the 
true  ecclesiastical  spirit  among  the  clergy ;  and  guiding 
the  councils  of  kings  and  queens  in  the  selection  of  per- 
sons for  the  highest  stations  in  the  Church. 

And  while  the  clergy,  from  the  lowest  to  the  highest, 
were  profiting  by  his  zeal,  we  have  beheld  him  busied 
among  the  laity  of  every  rank,  fitting  them  for  their 
share  in  the  national  advance.  He  found  the  poor 
plunged  in  ignorance  and  sin,  uncared  for  by  those  who 
should  have  been  their  guides  in  spiritual  matters,  and 
left  to  perish  of  hunger  by  their  temporal  lords.  He 
instituted"  his  Order  of  the  Mission  to  relieve  the  wants 
of  their  souls  5  and  by  his  untiring*  energy  he  raised  and 
distributed  enormous  sums  of  money  am'^r.g  starving- 
provinces.  He  called  to  his  aid,  on  the  one  hand,  the 
clergy,  whom  he  trained  and  elevated,  and  on  the  other 
the  laity  of  every  class,  in  whom  his  fervent  cliarity 
kindled  a  like  spirit.  We  have  seen  him,  not  so  mucn 
quickening  the  zeal  of  those  with  whom  he  came  in 
contact,  as  breathing  into  a  cold  and  heartless  gene- 
ration a  spirit  which  was  indeed  of  God.  We  have 
watched  his  influence  spreading  on  every  side,  until  all 
ranks  of  life  vie  with  each  other  in  following  his  guid- 


i| 


214 


ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 


ance,  and  in  pouring*  into  his  treasury  the  riches  of 
their  charity.  War,  famine,  and  pestilence  combined 
to  ravage  whole  provinces;  and  Vincent  brings  relief  to 
each  and  all.  To  what  quarter  can  we  turn  and  not 
meet  him  ?  What  want  is  there  which  he  does  not  dis- 
cover and  minister  imto  ?  For  the  sick  in  hospitals  he 
devises  his  confraternities ;  for  those  who  need  nursing 
at  home  he  has  his  Sisters  of  Charity ;  for  foundlings 
he  has  his  asylum ;  for  the  poor  who  need  temporal  re- 
lief he  has  his  associations ;  for  all  who  require  spiritual 
sustenance  he  has  his  missions  and  his  retreats ;  for  the 
galley-slaves  he  1ms  his  special  directors ;  for  all  crimi- 
nals and  prisoners  he  has  a  complete  system  of  spiri- 
tual instruction. 

Nor  must  we  limit  his  work  to  what  lie  achieved  in 
his  own  day.  Like  the  Churcli  whose  faithful  son  he 
ever  was,  his  labours  grew  and  prospered,  and  bore 
fruit  for  future  ages.  Every  work  of  his  not  only  suc- 
ceeded at  first,  not  only  lasted  far  beyond  his  time,  but 
now  lives  and  flourishes  as  tmly  as  when  Vincent 
guided  it.  The  hardy  plants  which  throve  so  well 
have  grown  into  lofty  and  wid.3-spreading  trees,  and 
their  seed  has  gone  forth  into  all  lands.  France  may 
well  glory  in  their  birth;  but  every  land  rejoices  in 
their  presence  and  profits  by  their  fruit.  The  Lazarist 
Father  continues  to  preach  the  faith  of  Christ  as  well 
to  heathens  as  to  unbelievers;  he  has  his  sojourn 
among  the  INIahometans  of  the  East,  he  peneti'ates  into 
the  wilds  of  America,  and  into  the  equally  unknown 
regions  of  Thibet  and  China.  The  Sister  of  Charity 
exercises  her  holy  ministry,  not  only  in  the  hospital 
at  Scutari,  but  amongst  the  mixed  populations  of 
Constantinople,  Alexandria,  and  Smyrna,  and  cheers 
and  comforts  the  sick-beds  of  our  own  Cliristian  poor. 
The  s})iritual  retreat  is  given  as  regularly  in  this  our 
day  as  wlien  St.  Vincent  conducted  it  in  person;  the 
rule  which  he  gave  to  his  brethren  continues  to  direct 


their  successors ;    the 


organisation 


which   he  devised 


for  the  relief  of  the  poor  still  prevails  in  most  parts  oi 


/ 


CH.  XXIV.]      DEATH  AND  CANONISATION. 


215 


the  world,  exactly  as  when  Madame  Le  Gras  and  her 
companions  first  entered  upon  the  work  in  the  days  of 
Louis  XIII. 

And  herein  is  our  especial  interest  in  the  life  here 
recorded.  It  comes  Uome  to  ourselves  and  to  our  own 
times  ;  for  it  tells  of  d  work  begun  indeed  upwards  of 
two  hundred  years  ago,  but  which  is  still  going  on  in 
the  midst  of  us.  As  the  record  of  r.  life  spent  in  deeds 
of  active  charity,  it  would  have  a  claim  upon  our  atten- 
tion ;  as  the  beginning  of  a  great  movement  for  social 
amelioration,  at  a  period  of  peculiar  interest,  when  the 
feudal  system  was  passing  into  the  monarchical,  and 
old  forms  and  customs  of  society  were  breaking  up,  it 
would  have  an  interest  for  the  student  of  human  nature 
and  the  lover  of  his  race  ;  but,  over  and  above  all  this, 
it  has  that  which  takes  it  out  of  the  past,  and  places  it 
in  the  present,  which  removes  it  from  the  exclusive 
province  of  the  historian,  and  brings  it  into  the  cata- 
logue of  living  things,  in  which  we  have  our  part.  St. 
Vincent  de  Paul  still  lives  in  his  works  ;  his  spirit  guides 
them  now.  He  is  not,  then,  merely  one  v/ho  lived  with 
Louis  and  Henry  of  Navarre  ;  who  guided  Richelieu  in 
his  choice  of  Bishops,  and  thwarted  Mazarin  in  his  mis- 
use of  power  ; — he  ministers  to  our  sick  in  the  Crimea  ; 
he  tells  us  of  lands,  of  which,  but  for  his  disciples,  we 
should  know  nothing  ;  he  walks  our  streets  and  relieves 
our  poor  ;  he  warns  the  negligent  and  instructs  the  ig- 
norant among  us  ;  he  assists  the  priests  who  minister  at 
our  altars,  and  nurses  the  sick  and  wounded  in  our 
hospitals. 

We  cannot  escape  from  Yincent  de  Paul.  The 
energy  ol  that  dauntless  old  man  cannot  die  ;  the  love 
which  burned  so  fervently  in  his  heart  is  too  divine 
ever  to  grow  cold.  Natural,  then,  it  is  that  we  should 
seek  to  know  somewhat  about  him  ;  that,  if  he  will 
come  among  us,  we  may  understand  what  he  would  be 
about ;  that,  if  he  will  have  us  work  with  him.  we  may 
know  at  what  lie  is  aiming,  and  of  what  spirit  he  is. 
The  forgoing    pages  are    designed  to  answer  this  in- 


210 


ST.  VINCENT  DB  PAUL. 


qiiiry.  They  seek  only  to  set  forth,  plainly  and  simply, 
what  others  have  ""already  recorded  at  greater  length 
and  with  more  of  detail.  And  if  they  kindle  one  holy 
aspiration,  or  induce  to  one  act  of  charity,  in  imitation 
and  through  love  of  Him  whom  Vincent  served  so  well, 
they  will  have  gained  their  end.  -^ 


O  God,  Viho  didst  strengthen  blessed  Vincent  with 
apostolic  courage  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  the  poor,  and 
promote  the  beauty  of  the  ecclesiastical  order ;  grant, 
we  beseech  Thee,  that  ive  who  venerate  his  pious  merits 
may  also  be  instructed  by  the  example  of  his  virtues, 
through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  Thy  Son,  who,  with 
2'hee,  liveth  and  reigneth  in  the  unity  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  God,  world  without  end.     Amen. 


THE  END. 


My 
on 
ell. 


nth 
md 
lilt, 
rits 
lies, 
cilh 
My 


